Twisted Love
by killerkitty15
Summary: Matthew is abused at home and cuts himself for comfort, Gilbert and his brother moved to America because of his troubled and violent past. What happens when they befriend each other and will it all be worth it when their worlds come crashing down on them? NOTE: Not related to my story "Just to Complicate Things" serious warnings inside PLEASE read!
1. Matthew

**HERRO!**

**I BRING YOU….A DARK PRUCAN FIC!**

**I don't know why I just felt a need to write this so…enjoy~**

**ATTENTION: I don't own the characters or the songs I will use in the beginning here, these all belong to other people that are kind enough to share the awesome stuff they make so fan fiction writers (like muh self) can use them for their own whims**

**WARNINGS: This is a DARK PruCan fic so their will be a lot of depressing things going on in here, as well as eventually smut. I haven't decided if I want it to end happy or sad. We'll see. There are also...well in this story I make Mattie and Al's father an asshole who has extreme religious views. If you're sensitive about religion don't read this and don't post hateful reviews. I have my own views and so do you, I get that and I respect it, I just don't want to see any of that kind of stuff in the comments. If it's about improvements I can make on the plot, my grammar, my writing style, then go ahead and comment I LOVE that kind of feedback, honestly, as long as you're not being a totally asswipe about it.**

**LOOK HERE AS WELL!**

**_Warnings you should be aware of today: self harm, abuse, self hatred, homophobia, mentions of drug use and underage drinking_**

**If you are easily upset by things like this PLEASE don't read this. I know I am and yet I still read them, if you do this then I want you to enjoy it but I'm giving you a warning now. DONT READ IT IF YOU'LL GET UPSET! Don't leave hateful comments or whatever either because I WARNED you. Right now, I'm giving you a chance to back out. **

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**Welp. If you stayed then enjoy this. I don't think there will be any major character death but if there is there will be a warning before the chapter in which it happens.**

* * *

"Shake it off

Pick yourself up, they say,

Your life fell apart in your hands

And you've got the scars

To prove it

It's not the first time, and they're getting

Deeper

Pull it together

Button up your shirt

Roll down those sleeves

Don't let them see how you've coped

It's not the first time, and they're getting

Deeper"

~_Composure_ by August Burns Red

* * *

**_Chapter One_**

They sat, eating silently at the dining table. The entire house, like his parents, reeked of money and snobbery. The long dining table had been waxed, expensive vases filled with flowers going along its center and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It was a mondernized plantation house that had been in the family since it was built. Matthew didn't like it, he was a simple person who liked simple things, and neither did his brother. Although, Al wished they wouldn't hog it all.

He liked his toys.

Anyway, they sat in their expensive dining room in tense silence that had been normal everyday of their life. Alfred was two years older so perhaps he knew something different then these awkward dinners. But Matthew had only been subjected to these; if it had ever been different Alfred hadn't said anything. They were so different, he and Al, despite how similar they looked.

Alfred had short, sandy blonde hair with a weird strand sticking up from his cowlick and blue eyes that were always cheery. He always had a big smile on his freckled face. He was a jock, a big fan of football and baseball, always wearing his team letterman jacket with either a t-shirt or button down, nice boot cut styled jeans and clean sneakers. Alfred was loud and every one listened when he talked.

Matthew was his totally opposite.

He had shaggy hair that fell into his eyes; it was the same color as Al's only a bit wavy with an untamable –dangerous –curl. His eyes were the same as Al's but they didn't have that cheery glitter, he never really smiled and he didn't have as many freckles. Matthew wasn't a jock. At all. The only sport he liked to play, or watch, was hockey. He liked to cook, draw and write, he liked long walks with his ear buds blaring music. His clothing style was different too. Matthew liked dark colors, skinny jeans, band t-shirts, converse instead of Air Jordon's, mesh shirts, hoodies –especially his Toronto Maple Leafs hoodie –and bracelets. He was introverted, quiet and no one really paid attention to him. Except when something bad happened.

Like right then.

"So Matthew," his father said placing his knife and fork down, only to steeple his fingers, "Anything happen at school today?"

Alfred and their mother both tensed, looking toward the patriarch of the family. Matthew, however, looked down at his food and continued to eat. "Not really," he answered in his naturally bland, quiet voice.

"Oh, really?" Matthew stopped eating when he heard the tight, knowing tone in his father's voice, "Because Mr. Newman called and said you were still seeing those…_boys_." Mr. Newman was the principle and an old friend of Mr. Jones, they both had the same beliefs.

Matthew swallowed the food in his mouth, the delicious food that now tasted like ash. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, _damn it, why did he have to stutter?_ His mother inhaled sharply, almost like a gasp, and Alfred closed his eyes, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Lying's a sin, boy," he snapped his eyes cold and glaring, "Are you calling me a liar?"

"N-No-."

"Are you calling John" –Mr. Newman –"a liar?"

"No, s-sir-."

"Then it's true?!" Mr. Jones snapped banging his fists on the table and making the glassware shake.

"…y-yes, sir," he squeaked his voice barely above a whisper. Matthew's heart was pounding painfully, his blood roaring in his ears.

"Disobedient child!" he yelled throwing his empty plate at the teen. Matthew raised his arms to protect his head and neck. The plate shattered, knocking him from his chair with the force of the impact. "This family does not associate with blasphemers and sinners!"

"But Tim and Carlos-."

"Don't speak their names in this house. _Ever!_" he hissed rounding the table to grab Matthew by the front of his hoodie, "Read your Bible five times, it seems you've forgotten what our Lord has sacrificed for you!" Mr. Jones let go of him with a shove and a sneer before reclaiming his seat. He turned to Alfred, smiling, "So, Al, how are your classes?"

Matthew felt blood drip down his arms from the shattered plate. He stood shakily, as always he was unnerved by his father's hot-cold behavior. No one noticed him except for his mother who looked like she wanted to say something. He only shook his head and walked into the kitchen.

"Matthieu?" Francine –or Madame Bonnefoy –said stepping away from the sink and drying her hands on a wash cloth, "Are you alright, mon cher?"

He said nothing. All he did was bend down to retrieve the first aid kit from beneath the sink.

"…'e zrew anozer plate?" she asked sympathetically, removing her apron.

"Oui, madame," he confirmed quietly.

She pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, the only one to ever like his long "emo" hair. "It'll get better cher," she said pulling him close in order to hold him against her, "'e waz not always like zis."

Matthew patted her back awkwardly before pulling away, "Merci madame. I'm just going to go up to my room now."

Madame Bonnefoy smiled again, patting his cheek. He couldn't help but think that she was one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. She had blonde hair coiled on the back of her head, wisps framing her face; her eyes were violet and she looked young and curvy. She always stood straight, commanding respect and looking down her nose at you despite being their cook and, sometimes, caterer. All Madame Bonnefoy did was make them dinner, clean up then go home but she was paid well and Mr. Jones paid for her son's –Francis's –education.

He locked the door to his room before shrugging off his hoodie. He wore no shirt under it and made quick work cleaning off the blood. There was only one partially bad scratch but if felt better after the initial sting of the hydrogen peroxide and a few bandages. Matthew leaned against the wall and sighed.

He felt hallow, like there was a pit of…of blackness in his chest. Why was he the subject of all his father's abuse? He didn't mind protecting his mother or Alfred but he'd prefer it not happening to anyone at all. Matthew had stopped feeling betrayed long ago; all he felt now was emptiness. And somehow that hurt more than feeling betrayed. It was his own fault for being how he was.

No, his father didn't know he was gay. If he did he'd probably beat the boy then leave him in an alley like the trash he was. Matthew had tried to change, he had been trying for so long, but he just couldn't stop his thinking. He tried to remind himself that it wasn't natural, that he was basically taking His sacrifice and tossing it back in His face. But that hadn't done a thing.

Yes, he deserved all the spiteful words and thrown plates. He was filthy, vile, disgusting. He tried to make himself forget, or go numb, by drinking and partying with Tim and Carlos. But that only made things worse. He'd wake up with a hangover, sans clothes and in bed with either Tim or Carlos. On rare occasions both. When he got home he always vomited from too much alcohol and self-loathing. Still he drank, hoping at some point it'd work.

Matthew slid down the wall, his throat thick but no teas pricking his eyes. Anxiety and desperation were bubbling in the pit of his stomach, rising. He pulled at his hair, hyperventilating. He felt too crowded, picking frantically at the scabs on his arms. These he had made himself.

He hastily crawled to his bed and lifted the mattress, reaching for the blade that he hid. When he felt the cool metal on his fingers, his desperation eased and his mind was clearer. The blade was his only real friend. The blade never forgot him like Tim and Carlos did; it didn't ignore him like everyone else. The blade was his savior. If he was a big fan of religion he'd worship it. Just _holding_ it calmed him down, made him feel a little bit better, but not enough. He pressed it to his left arm, firmly –almost angrily –pressed down on the skin and dragged it to the right.

His face was blank, a slight eye twitch the only sign that his wound was stinging. His eyes slowly blinked and he tried to savor as much of that beautiful pain as he could. They opened again just as blood was starting to bloom and pool.

Red. It was such a pretty color.

He didn't really like cutting his arms, where people –mainly Al and their mother –could see. But this first cut, one he placed just below the bend of his elbow, was vital. He could savor this one while he allowed the others to be more frantic. Without paying that cut any more attention, he shed his pants and sat back down in his boxers. He took up his blade again. Matthew ended up black out as he cut, forgetting who he was and what he was doing as the blade zipped across the fleshy tissue of his thigh, thick from years of hockey. It hurt more, not hurt _stung_, and the blood he drew was vibrant against his pale skin.

It wasn't long before it dawned on him what he was doing. He shoved the blade back beneath his mattress and silently watched his blood drip. It was a mix of horror and satisfaction as he closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply. His pulse was thrumming and, only when he had rallied enough courage, did he grab tissues from his nightstand to clean off the river of red that was now sliding down his leg. Matthew grabbed the peroxide again, the first time he hadn't used it he had almost gotten an infection, and wrapped his thigh using his own personal supply of white gauze.

He rubbed the wrappings, already they were getting tender, before slipping on sweat pants and a long sleeved red t-shirt. Why did he always do this? Matthew didn't know why he craved for the pain. It was either doing this or drink and, to put it bluntly, he wouldn't die just from a few small cuts. He didn't want to die, _yes_, he was going against the popular belief that every person who likes metal and wears skinny jeans with combat boots wants to kill themselves.

Matthew didn't want to die because he was simply too cowardly. All he wanted was to be happy and get better. He wanted his affliction to be cured, the ugliness in his soul to be wiped clean. All he wanted was to be _normal_, like Alfred. He wanted to enjoy rap and pop music, he wanted to like football and baseball –ugh –and most of all he wanted…he wanted to want girls.

* * *

Matthew's cuts rubbed against his uniform pants as he walked with Al, they always pulled and stung afterwards.

"So I'm at this party and, dude, this chick was all over me!" he said smiling broadly, all his teeth showing, and waving his arms excitedly in the air, "I'm telling you bro her tits were fucking _huge!_ And don't even get me started on her ass…"

"Sounds like the whole McDonald's meal," Matthew said stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

Alfred laughed loudly, slapping him on the back. It was hard enough that he ended up stumbling forward. "That was a good one, bro!" he exclaimed –practically yelled –causing a few people to turn and stare at the brothers.

"Alfred!" he hissed feeling his whole face catch fire, "Shut up, people are staring!" But Alfred was no longer paying attention; instead he was looking off at a group of people.

"Something interesting must be going on," Al concluded looking at the younger sibling with sparkling blue eyes, "That means that my heroic presence has to be there! Come on, Mattie!" He grabbed Matthew's wrist and dragged him toward the crowd, using his monster strength.

Alfred pushed their way to the front, making him immediately uncomfortable. There were too many people for his tastes. They were surrounded on all sides by people, mostly girls, who crowded around seven guys. He recognized only Francine's son, Francis, and Francis's best friend who was a Spaniard named Antonio. They both talked with a strange kid he didn't know, Antonio looking lustfully at a seemingly pissed Italian. "They're the new exchange students," Alfred elaborated to which Matthew could only nod, "I thought there were supposed to be six though…there's only five…"

Matthew shrugged, listening as girls attacked the new kids with questions.

"Like, is that your _real_ eye color?" a girl asked the kid by Toni and Francis. Francis blocked his line of sight so he couldn't tell what the new kid looked like.

"Your accent is so cool~! Are you, like, English?" a girl asked a blonde with wacky eyebrows.

"OMG! Do you work out?" the question was directed at a muscly, stoic faced blonde.

"No way, you're brothers!" a girl exclaimed looking back and forth between two similar looking boys.

"Si," the brunette said blushing a bit.

"Ve~ he's mi fratello~!" his sibling, a bubbly boy with auburn hair, exclaimed. His brother blushed harder.

"SH-SHUT UP, CRYBABY BASTARD!"

"Big brother-?"

"Chigi! I said shut it!"

"Ja," Matthew looked over to where the muscle man was replying to the girl who looked like an ant in comparison.

"Yes, born and bred," the bushy eye browed guy said, "Lived in London all my life."

"Kesesesese, hell yeah!" the guy by Francis exclaimed, "Zey're awesome, right?!" Francis shifted, holding the ear that had just been screamed into. There. Now Matthew could see-.

Oh.

F-ing.

Shit.

His skin was almost translucent, pale, his artfully messy hair as white as newly fallen snow and his eyes…his eyes were the deepest crimson he had ever seen. They were breath taking like rubies, like pools of blood. He was tall –but an inch or two shorter than the muscle man –and in good shape but wasn't too bulky. His body was perfect, long legs and muscly thighs.

**_Ugly, filthy, unnatural._**

Strong arms and a hard chest…

**_Disgusting, worthless, shameful._**

…a defined jaw, straight back…

The albino looked his way and stared right back at him. _His face is really nice too…_A lopsided grin spread across his face and he winked. _Holy fuck, he knows I'm staring!_

Matthew's face burned bright red as he turned and sprinted for his locker, at the same time the albino leaned towards Francis and asked him something. He could feel his red eyes on his back all the way to his locker. Eyes red like blood…beautiful…

_No! **Disgusting, shameful.** You aren't supposed to think like that!_ "That's right," he muttered to himself, opening up his locker, _maybe I should look at some of the girls…? _He looked at a group of girls by the water fountain.

A girl with brunette hair was talking to two other girls. He recognized the brunette with a flower in her hair as Elizaveta, a girl in Alfred's grade. _She looks…nice. Curvy. Curvy's good, right? But Al probably called dibs on her._ Matthew didn't want to get in the way of his brother's conquests.

The next girl was named Kat, a Senior that had demo-ed –a kinder way of saying she flunked –last year with short blonde hair and breasts that were fucking ridiculous. _Big boobs were good…and she was really nice to him whenever she noticed him. _But her siblings were insane. Maybe even criminally.

The last girl was a Sophomore –like Matthew –who he thought was named Lili with an "i" not "y". He didn't even want to think about her. He was afraid her big brother –who was a Junior –would hear his thoughts and shoot him. Repeatedly.

Matthew shook his head and tossed his satchel into his locker. All he needed to do was make it through the day without issue…maybe he'd be able to stop by Tim's after school. _He'd even have a drink. Or three._

"Mon petite Matthieu~!" a voice sang behind him and, before he could even turn around, he was tackled into a bone crushing hug. Almost as bad as Alfred's hugs. And that was saying something.

"Bon-Bonjour, Francis," he squeaked when the Frenchman released him, "What's up?"

"Mon ange, I want you to meet mon ami Gilbert," Francis said introducing the smirking albino with a sweep of the hand, " 'e iz one of the new transfer studentz."

"H-Hi," Matthew said blushing and shaking his hand weakly. Damn was his grip strong, "What y-year are you in?"

"I'm a Senior," he said his voice a deep rumble, he had an accent. German, I think. "Even zough ze Awesome Me is eighteen I gotta retake it. My grandpa vould have my awesome ass on a silver platter other vise."

_Yup. Definitely German. _

" 'e demo-ed~" Francis whispered conspiringly.

"Vhat ze fuck is-?"

"It's a nicer was of saying you got held back, amigo," Antonio chipped in patting Gilbert's back sympathetically.

He scowled at him over his shoulder before turning back to Mattew, smirking. "So, Matt, how about you?" he asked, "Vhat year are you in?"

"I'm a S-Sophomore," he replied quietly, he was still blushing since he wasn't used to the positive attention. Usually people lost interest and walked away.

"Nice! My little bruder's a Sophomore too," Gilbert said laughing his weird…cackle, "So are zose Italian kids, Feliciano and-."

"Lovino~" Antonio sand a dreamy look in his eyes, "Oh, I wish I could be in mi poco tomate's classes~!"

"Lookz like your brother and Toni were reunited with child'ood friends," Francis said raising his eyebrows at Gilbert.

"Hey! Don't forget about ze Awesome Me!" he said poking the scruffy male's chest, "Und vhat about you Mr. L'Amour?!"

Matthew snorted. How could anyone forget Gilbert? He was loud, cocky and, well, fucking hot. _Unlike me…_

"Vhat's so funny, Matt?" Gilbert asked suddenly really close. His chest touched Matthew's back and his breath skimmed the nape of his neck.

He squeaked, his shoulders bunching up around his ears as he spun around to face the albino. Gilbert wore a shit eating grin and had a dark almost… "naughty" look in his eyes that made Matthew shiver. "W-What did you d-do that for?" he stuttered holding his books to his chest as a type of shield.

Gilbert chuckled taking a step back, hands up. "No reason. Oh, hey, can you help me vith somezing?" he asked and, without waiting for an answer, he dug around in his pocket until he pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. "Can you help me find my class und my locker?"

He blinked. "Oh. Ok," he said taking the crumpled sheet from Gilbert. _He is new_, Matthew thought leading him up the stairs, _maybe he's just socially awkward. He'll probably leave me alone soon. Just like everyone else… _

"So…um…did you really flunk?" Matthew asked as the older male began to put his stuff in the locker where it belonged.

Gilbert chuckled, "Nein, it's just ze vay my birthday falls." The albino spun around to look at him, grinning. "Alright, show me to class, Birdie!" he shouted fist pumping in the air.

"…Birdie…?" Mathew asked before guiding the Senior to his class. His cheeks heated up and he watched his feet.

"Ja, zat's ze awesome nickname I gave you," the albino stated proudly, only causing his blush to deepen. _He was never given a nickname before. _

"Oh…w-why?" Matthew asked hesitantly. Did he really want to know the answer?

"Because you're small like one," he said pinching the frowning blonde's cheek, "Und you sound like one too!" At that moment, he squeezed Matthew's sides and he squealed.

"D-Don't do that," Matthew whined, his thighs twitching from the pain of walking too much.

The Senior chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry about zat," he said, "I just couldn't help myself. You're just so" –**_dirty, disgusting, disgraceful_** –"cute~!"

"Eh?" he asked, shocked, no one had ever called him cute. Not since he was five year old and that had been his mother.

"You're cute like a little baby bird," Gilbert exclaimed as they neared his class, he peaked inside, "Zat guy on ze desk looks like you."

Matthew leaned inside to see Alfred standing on a desk, striking a superhero pose. He face palmed. "Y-Yeah…he's my older brother…" the blonde admitted quietly. Great. Now he'd like Alfred way more and forget about. No. He couldn't think like that. He had just met the albino a few minutes ago!

"Ah, vell, you seem vay more awesome zen him."

He gaped, eyes wide and his face fire truck red. "R-Really?"

"Ja, of course!" Gilbert almost shouted, "I'm ze fucking _king_ of awesome so I vould know. I'm an expert in zese matters!"

"O-Oh, I see," he said looking down and trying to hide behind his hair, "Um I g-guess I'll see you around?"

"Ja, laters!"

~oOo~

In homeroom he was introduced to the exchange students that would be joining the class.

The brunette Italian with a weird curl on the side of his head and hazel eyes, stood at the front of the class. His eyes glared at the classroom and he was constantly shifting his weight, anger and annoyance covering up the fear Matthew could plainly see. He knew the signs well.

"Listen up everyone!" Ms. Bosman said trying to quiet the chatter of students. When it was finally quiet she continued. "I know you guys are aware of the new transfrers, two of which are in our class!" she looked around, confused, "Um…where is-?"

She was cut off by a brunette Matthew recognized as a Junior, walking into the room and dragging along a pretty blonde haired, green eyed girl.

"Toris, how can I-?"

"This is Feliks," he said sounding out of breath as he pointed to the blonde that was now hiding behind him, "He's your new exchange student."

"O-Oh…" Ms. Bosman gaped, "All…Alright then…would you like to" –cough –"introduce yourselves…?"

The brunette –Toris –nudged the blonde who started, blushing. "L-Like, hi, I'm Feliks," the blonde said with a small wave, he disappeared behind Toris right after.

"Where are you from Feliks? What do you like to do? Did you do anything over the summer?" she asked in quick succession, obviously flustering the blonde.

"Uhm…" Feliks looked at Toris who smiled and nodded reassuringly. That seemed to do the trick because he smiled broadly and, while still blushing, raised his voice, "I'm, like, totally from Poland and it's, like, a totally awesome place~! Oh and I, like, love, love, love shopping and hanging out with Toris!"

The brunette looked at his shuffling feet and blushed.

"My favorite color is pink and that's, like, what I painted my room! Toris and his friends helped me. Oh! And, like, I spent the rest of my time totally getting a freaking awesome tan and taking care of, like, my aunt's horses!"

Everyone, including Matthew, gapped at him. This Polish kid was the _gayest_ person he'd ever seen and that was saying something. Especially coming from Matthew.

Ms. Bosman smiled tightly, "That's…lovely. Why don't you take a seat next to…um, next to…?"

"Matthew," he sighed in his usually quiet voice, "I'm Matthew…"

"Ah, right, Matthew," she said awkwardly.

Feliks looked at him before smiling shyly and walking towards him. "H-Hi," he said sitting next to the quiet teen, "Your name's Matthew?"

He nodded, cheeks bright red. "O-Oui. Matthew Wi-Jones," he murmured, "Matthew Jones."

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" They looked up when the teacher addressed the annoyed looking brunette, Toris had left at some point.

The brunette shrugged, "Not really."

Ms. Bosman's lips twitched up in an uneasy smile. "Come on," she said trying to sound reassuring, "We'd love to know more abou-."

The brunette let out a loud, annoyed sigh. "Listen up, bastards! I'm Lovino fucking Vargas, I'm from Italy and have connections with the mafia! I'll break your kneecaps if you cross me!" he snapped challenging the teacher with a glare.

She chuckled nervously, gesturing to the empty seat in front of Matthew. "Why don't you sit in front of…in front of…?" she was obviously groping for his name but, eventually, she gave up. "Why don't you go sit in the empty seat in front of Feliks?"

Lovino frowned before moving wordlessly to the empty seat. The Italian leaned back in his chair, taking in the two blondes, hazel eyes finally settling on Matthew. "She's a bitch," Lovino said eyes staring unblinkingly at him, "She should've remembered your name."

Matthew just shrugged, "It…it happens…"

"Feliks." The three looked up at Ms. Bosman who was standing to their right. "Feliks," she repeated crossing her arms, "That's not part of the dress code."

The blonde looked down at his uniform, tugging at the hem of the skirt. He wore a red plaid skirt, a frumpy cream sweater, a dress shirt and loosely tied red tie visible from the deep V-neck, black knee highs and brown shoes. Clips with cute pink bows kept his bangs from falling into his face. "Like, w-what's wrong with it?" he asked eyes wide, glassy lips quivering.

"It doesn't say anywhere that guys can't wear the girls' uniform," Lovino snapped scowling, "Get off his fucking case, the uniform is still up to fucking code!"

The teacher balked, stepping back nervously, "But-."

"What? Do you hate cross dressers? Is this a hate crime?" he asked narrowing his eyes into slits.

Ms. Bosman opened and closed her mouth like a fish before slowly walking back to the board.

"I've never seen her so flustered," Matthew said quietly, the Italian smirked.

"Like, thanks," the Pole said with a shy smile, "You're to totally nice."

Lovino shrugged, blushing. "Yeah, whatever Polish-bastard."

~oOo~

"Did you see that one cross dressing kid?" _(Tim)_

"Yeah, he's in my homeroom. He's nice." _(Matthew)_

"That one with the eyebrows?" _(Tim)_

"Yeah…when I saw him he was hanging with Alfred." _(Matthew)_

"Why would he hang out with that puta? No offense." _(Carlos)_

"None taken." _(Matthew)_

"And that albino German dude?" _(Tim)_

"…Oui…" _(Matthew)_

"What?" Tim asked narrowing his eyes on the blonde who shifted uncomfortably and blushed, "Did he make a pass at you or something?"

Matthew couldn't meet his eyes and instead focused on Tim's snake bites. They glinted dangerously in the sunlight streaming in from the Cafeteria's big, bay windows. "No…" he said quietly, looking down at his hands that were clasped in his lap, "I-I don't even think he bats for my team…"

"Matt." He looked up at the Cuban whose dreadlocks were held back in a ponytail and a neon orange shirt was peeking out from beneath his school uniform. "You shouldn't hang around him, niño," he said his chocolate eyes big and worried, "I heard he-."

"Birdie~!"

Speak of the devil. The blonde looked up in time to see Gilbert running toward him. He squeaked when the albino tackled him, squeezing him into a hug soon after. "Ow, Gil," Matthew whined trying to fight his blush, his thigh began to twitch in pain; "You're heavy, get off me!" Gilbert pouted before placing him back on the chair he had been tackled from. He took the empty seat next to him. "W-What are you doing?" he stuttered confused.

"Sitting vith you, of course!"

The Sophomore looked over to his two Junior friends. Carlos –the Cuban –was smiling tightly, gripping his spoon so hard Matthew was afraid it might bend. Tim, though, wasn't polite enough to try and hide his annoyance and fury. Matthew opened his mouth to tell the Senior to go away, but what came out was, "Oui. Ok." He could feel the older boys' shock as Gilbert fist pumped. It only intensified when Matthew added, "If you think you can handle our awesomeness."

The albino sputtered, eyes wide and cheeks pink. "Vhat? Have you forgotten who I am?! I am Gilbert ze Awesome, Gilbert ze Great!"

Matthew couldn't help the grin that twitched at the corners of his lips as the Senior ranted about how "awesome" he was. He found him to be funny and…refreshing. And the fact that he was kinda, sorta hot helped too.

_Sinful. Don't look –**you disgust me** –don't look. _

"Albino-bastard!" Matthew looked up to see Lovino glaring at said bastard, "What do you think you're doing with Maple-bastard?!" Lovino punctuated his anger by slamming his body into the empty seat to Matthew's left.

"Lovi~! Antonio have zis lunch?" the German asked sweetly. Almost too sweetly.

The Italian blushed. "Chigi, shut up!" he hissed taking out a container of pasta, "And leave Mattie alone, shit head!"

"But Birdie's my best friend," Gilbert whined putting an arm around the blonde's shoulders and pulling him to his side. Matthew tensed but didn't pull away. Lovino started cursing at him in Italian while Gilbert smiled cheekily, keeping his arms around Matthew's shoulders. He looked up, about to ask Tim and Carlos for help but found they were gone.

_Great. Just…great._

"Like, dudes you need to totally take a chill pill~" Feliks sang pulling poor Toris to their table and they both took the seats Carlos and Tim just vacated, "Like, it can totally give you wrinkles and stuff."

That was the start of a new ritual for Matthew. And, suddenly, he found himself smiling more. Even if it was just a little bit.

* * *

**I hoped everyone liked this and I hope it wasn't...too depressing. There will be a lot more though, a lot having to do with problems revolving around Gilbert's and Matthew's mental states**

**ANYWAYS! I'll see you next time...I guess**

* * *

_**Characters that have appeared:**_

**Matthew (Canada)**

**Alfred (America)**

**Katherine (Mom) (OC)**

**Dad (No name as of yet) (OC)**

**Ms. Bosman (OC)**

**Mr. Newman (OC)**

**Francis (France)**

**Antonio (Spain)**

**Tim (Netherlands)**

**Carlos (Cuba)**

**Toris (Lithuania)**

**Francine (Fem!France)**

_**Transfer students:**_

**Arthur (England)**

**Ludwig (Germany)**

**Lovino (South Italy)**

**Feliciano (North Italy)**

**Feliks (Poland)**

**Gilbert (Prussia)**

* * *

**I think that's all the characters that were mentioned...**

**REMEMBER! Comment/Review/Favorite/Follow PLEAAAASE**

**GRACIAS!  
**

**~kitty *with love***


	2. Matthew and Gilbert

**YOLO!**

**…that is my greeting…**

**Ok so I let my friend read the rough draft of the first chapter (I write everything in a notebook before I type it) and she pointed out a few things to me that I'm gona try and either explain or fix in the upcoming chapters kay? If you're confused on anything let me know and I'll either explain it in the author's not or work the explanation into the story**

**OH and the chapters' names will be based off of the main POVs. Last chapter was only Matthew and this chapter I think I'll make both Gilbert and Matthew since it's mainly focused on them.**

**Anyways~! Onward….**

**_Warnings: slight lemon/yaoi stuff going on, abuse, self harm (mentions of it I think) aaaaand I think that's it…._**

**-So there's kind of an answer key to this:**

**~oOo~ :this sign means slight time skip**

**The lines are massive time skips**

**._._._. :this means it changes to a singular POV for a moment, it'll come before the singular POV (a sign that it's starting) and after (a sign that it's ending)**

**SO! Please enjoy :)**

* * *

"I wish I wasn't always wrong

I wish it wasn't always my fault

But the finger that you're pointing

Has knocked me on my knees

And all you need to know is

I'm so sorry"

~_Sad Song _by Christina Perri

* * *

**_Chapter Two_**

"Mattie~"

"Oui, Gilbert?" he sighed turning around to see the albino uncomfortably close, Matthew's nose level with his chest.

"Do you vant to come to meine awesome house after school?" Gilbert asked nervously, his eyes wide and begging, "P-Please…?"

He reminded Matthew of a puppy, he was so adorable. That and he found the albino to be awesome company. They had only known each other for a month and already they were best friends. Matthew was in a little trio, like Gilbert was. The blonde's consisted of him, Lovino and Feliks while Gilbert's was him, Francis and Antonio. Their little groups were just for them, but they spent all their time with each other when they weren't with their group.

Matthew would hang out at school with Lovino and Feliks, texted them outside of school. But with Gilbert they could walk in the woods together, they could talk on the phone and send funny pictures to each other via text; they –surprisingly –liked the same music and would recommend songs to each other. He _liked_ being with Gilbert.

Matthew's father still beat and raged on him, his thighs would still twitch with the aftershocks of his frantic cutting. But…for the first time in what seemed like forever he felt…content.

What they hadn't done yet was go to Gilbert's house. "U-Um, I-."

" 'ey! You bloody wanker, get this frog off me!" Matthew was cut off by one of Alfred's friends. He was the British exchange student with caterpillar brows.

"Oh but, mon cher, you know you love me~!" Francis purred hands moving to grab the smaller male's sides, the Brit slapped them away, "I am Monsieur L'Amour-!"

"I don't care if you're the bloody president of this bloody country-!"

"But, _lapin~_, you know you want to be loved by a French man!"

"Mattie," Matthew's wrist was tugged, spinning him so his nose bumped the albino's chest. He looked up at Gilbert's anxious expression and raised an eyebrow. "Matthew, can you come over to meine awesome house today? Please?"

He looked so nervous, it was endearing really. The corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile, his heart going at a cheetah's pace. Any time that he could spend with Gil was time well spent, in his mind. Matthew opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by his brother.

"Don't worry, Iggy!" Al shouted, "The hero'll save you!"

"My name's not Iggy, you git!"

Gilbert scowled at Francis, Arthur and Alfred who were now yelling at each other. Even scowling, he looked beautiful.

_It's now or never Mattie_, his mind –no, his heart –said, _opportunities come once in never._ Inhaling shakily, he reached up to tug on the sleeve of Gilbert's red hoodie. It went against the dress code but the albino still wore it. "G-Gil?" he said in a quiet, shy voice. Immediately, the albino's crimson gaze was trained on him. _Red. Eyes glittering like rubies._ Matthew blushed at the stray thought_. No don't think like that –**sinful, disgrace, disappointment** –it's not right_. He shouldn't be thinking about Gilbert that way. They were just friends and Matthew saw how the albino shamelessly looked at girls' breasts. "W-W-We should go-o," he said looking down at their shoes, "Before they t-try and drag us into it."

Gilbert smiled the biggest smile he had ever seen, one that rivaled Alfred's. "Awesome, Mattie!" he exclaimed grabbing the blonde's hand and pulling him down the hall, "Do ve need to stop at your house? For clothes?"

"N-No!" he said quickly, Matthew didn't know how his dad would react to seeing Gilbert or what mood he was in. He really didn't want Gilbert to see him get beat or to see his disgustingly rich house. "I-I mean…I have extras in my locker."

The albino raised his eyebrow but said nothing. What he didn't tell Gilbert was that Carlos and Tim sometimes took him out partying after school. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he hadn't hung out with them in quite some time. _Odd,_ he though, _but then again they probably don't notice. Or won't anyways…_

After putting in his locker combo, he reached up to get his clothes and hurried off into the bathroom. He ducked into an empty stall and began to disrobe.

"You called me Gil."

Matthew squeaked, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Fuck, Gilbert, don't do that! You know I hate people sneaking up on me," he said yanking off his slacks, "Now. What are you going on about?"

"You called me Gil," he repeated from the other side of the stall, "You've never done zat before."

He was glad that the stall hid him or else the Senior would've seen his blush, as well as the small smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. "I'm…I'm sorry," Matthew said as he pulled on a shirt, "It just came out-."

"Neine," he said quickly, he cleared his throat, "I-I like it…Birdie."

"Birdie?" the blonde questioned, stepping out of the stall; he had heard Gilbert call him that the first day they met but the older male hadn't called him that since. When he came out he saw Gilbert leaning against another stall, looking to the right and away from him.

"Ja. I mean…everybody calls you Matt or Mattie und Birdie can…just be…" his words trailed off as he turned and looked at the Sophomore with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

"W-What?" Matthew stuttered tugging at his sleeves self-consciously. He wore his favorite jeans that were tight and a little stretchy and black, black lace up boots that ended just below his knees and a long sleeved fishnet shirt beneath his tight, V-neck, black t-shirt. Admittedly, they were fit to be smoking a bowl or grinding up against someone, beer in hand.

"I…I-It's nozing," he stammered his face heating up and watching the floor with interest, "S-So vat do you vant to do vhen ve get to meine house?"

The blonde shrugged and walked over to the sink, he hated the germs in men's washrooms. "I don't know," he said twisting the faucets to warm before wetting his hands, "What's over there?"

"A park, a movie theater," Gilbert listed watching the Sophomore bend over the sink to get to the soap, Matthew swore that his ass was being checked out. "An arcade, a pizza place, an Italian restaurant, a mall, a German restaurant, a stare zat sells handmade furniture, a toy store, a candy store, a sex shop-."

"Ok!" Matthew exclaimed blushing bright red, "U-Uh why don't we go to the pizza place and the arcade?"

The albino smiled, "Awesome choice! Let's go, I'm driving!" Gilbert grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the building to the parking lot. He rambled the entire way about how "awesome" his car and house was.

They appeared next to a silver, dented car where Feliciano and the blonde muscle man waited. An angry blonde muscle man. "Vhat ze hell took you so long?!" he demanded glaring at Gilbert and ignoring the fellow Sophomore completely. "Ve have been vaiting for zirty minutes!"

"Ve~ Luddy, don't yell," Feliciano said. He had spoken to the red head before and, although he was nice and made a conscious effort to remember his name, Matthew though he was too hyper. Too happy. He liked his brother, Lovino, way better.

Ludwig, the muscle man, tensed at the nickname but continued to glare at his brother.

"Yeah, Luddy, relax," the albino teased resting his weight on one of his legs, "I vas just getting Birdie. He's going to come home vith us."

"Who?" a blank look crossed the taller male's face. Gilbert blinked a few times before glaring at the younger –yet taller –sibling, his hand tightening its grip on Matthew's wrist.

"Meine Birdie," he said through gritted teeth, shoving Matthew at his brother, "My _awesome _best friend!"

He blushed when Gilbert had called him "his" and only blushed harder when he was pushed against the blonde German. Instinctively, Ludwig's arm came around his waist and they were pressed up against each other. Flesh to flesh. Both parties blushed, just standing there in awkward shock.

Ludwig felt his feminine frame, his clothes so tight they showed off his curves and were like a second skin. Although his frame was feminine –wide hips, a thin waist, long legs and small stature –Ludwig could feel muscle. Muscle that could only be on a man. The muscles in Matthew's back were tense beneath his fingertips and his lean muscled forearms, up against his chest, were shaking.

Matthew was pressed up against the blonde like in one of those old romance movies. His arms were trapped between them, palms on his chest, and he could feel every muscle. Every tense, thickly corded muscle in Ludwig's body. His tree trunk arms and legs, his broad chest and abs. Matthew's ear didn't even reach his heart. Unlike Gilbert. Matthew was positive if he were to hug the albino his ear would be over his heart, he could even listen to it beat-.

"Hey," Gilbert growled yanking the shorter male away and holding him to his side protectively, "I said he's meine, back off bruder."

The muscley teen baulked at his brother's tone, ignoring the Italian that had reattached himself to his arm. He had only heard his brother use that tone three times in his life and it never ended well.

"Gil," Matthew said quietly, placing his hand on the albino's bicep, "it's fine. It was an accident just forget about it."

The older male puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "Ja, ok, fine," he muttered giving his shoulders a squeeze before moving to the driver's side, "But you get shotgun Vögelchen."

._._._.

Ludwig watched from the back seat, listening to the two up in front argue about music. He was worried. They moved back to America so Gilbert could escape his past, his reputation. Now Ludwig feared it was all resurfacing again. Were his meds not working? Was he still seeing his therapist?

"Ve~ are you ok?"

He looked to his left at the Italian boy he had grown close to over the past month. "Ja, Feli," he said quietly, patting his head but avoiding the curl, "I'm just vorried about meine bruder is all."

"I give fratello back rubs when I'm worried about him," Feli said just as quietly, "Maybe you should do that with Gilbert?"

"M-Meine bruder und I aren't really like zat…" he said picturing Feliciano clad only in an apron and red high heels. In his fantasy, Ludwig would sit on one of the stools by the island countertop while Fantasy Feli gave him a big bowl of pasta and wurst. Fantasy Feli would come up behind him and rub his back, rubbing his front up against his back and whispering sinful things into his ear. Ludwig blushed and pushed the image away before he could get a boner.

He shouldn't think of his friend like that. What kind of man would that make him? A startling image of eyes the color of blood crossed his mind.

._._._.

They drove through the rich part of town, with all the plantation houses and willow trees, rose bushes, ponds and gazebos. They passed by Matthew's house, but he didn't say anything. Mainly because he was embarrassed by it. It was too grand, but he did like the pink cherry blossoms that hung over the path of the house come spring.

He saw Alfred in the yard with his friends Ivan, Arthur, Yao –who was actually a Freshman in college –and for some reason Francis was with them. They were playing some basketball while their mother –Katherine –and Madame Bonnefoy talked and drank iced teas on the front porch. Matthew looked away, trying not to let the jealousy and hurt solidify in his gut. _It wouldn't hurt them to invite me…_

"Birdie?" He looked up at Gilbert's concerned red gaze, "Are you ok?"

Matthew smiled, thankful for his concern, "Oui…I'm ok."

"I hate crossing zrough here too," he said conversationally, "Zey don't use zeir money to help people. Zey just buy new zings, new toys. Zey're selfish."

He thought of his dad who preached charity and God's will yet hogged all his money, of Alfred who always wanted the latest gadget and even his mother who liked cashmere sweaters, silk dresses and a necklace of pearls. Even Matthew himself who could shop in abandon sometimes. "Yeah," he said swallowing the lump of guilt in his throat, "they are."

They drove in comfortable silence through the rich part of town. Big, spread out houses gave way to tired looking, small houses close together. This was the middle class, the farther then this were the slums then just fields. It wasn't a quiet neighborhood, not by any means. Kids were running around playing and screaming, dogs barked and played roughly, moms stood and talked to one another when they weren't screaming at their dogs or kids, dads stood by grills with a beer in hand and telling jokes their pure children wouldn't understand. Older kids –teens –sat on porch steps, blaring music and trying to drown out their parents by laughing and yelling back and forth at each other. They pulled up in front of a white house with peeling paint, a fence made of brick with a black painted gate that looked new, tall bushes, a short cut lawn and ivy growing along the right side, creeping to the front of the house.

"Welcome to meine awesome palace!" Gilbert yelled somewhat sarcastically, making Matthew giggle at his excitement level. The albino rushed out of the car to open his door before he could even touch the handle.

"M-Merci," he thanked a blush creeping up his face. Gilbert simply smirked, grabbing his wrist and lead him to the front gate.

"Hey, hey, Gilly-kins who do you have there?" They turned to see a slender, almost feminine, boy with his hand on his hip and a cocky smirk on his face. He wore white skinny jeans, green converse, a green t-shirt that said "Save the Ecosystem Bitch!" with a stick figure throwing a paper cup in a recycling bin, sunglasses and his light brown hair was pulled back with a green and white ribbon.

The albino sneered pulling Matthew closer to his side. "Get lost, fucker," he snapped, "Zis place is for awesome people –und meine bruder –only."

"Ve~ I'm awesome?"

"Neine, Feli, but you're cute so you're allowed."

"Yay~!"

The guy with the sunglasses giggled, flicking hair out of his face. "Come on, sweet cheeks, don't be so mean," he said his voice slightly mocking, "We both know you want my dick in your cute lil' hole-."

"Shut it," Gilbert hissed eyes narrowed to red slits, "You don't have a chance in hell. Und who says I don't already have someone?"

His eyes flicked to Matthew, looking him up and down before breaking out into tear inducing laughter. "Th…This kid?!" he choked out his laughter fading into giggles, "Gilly, you can't be serious-."

"Why don't you just fuck off?" Four heads whipped in his direction, looking at Matthew in surprise and shock. He didn't know why he said what he did; all he knew was that the anger in his gut was practically over flowing. He had _had_ it with this prick; for one, he had no right to talk to Gilbert like that. Two, those nicknames were stupid and the albino obviously didn't like them. Or this stranger for that matter. Lastly, Matthew was _not_ a kid! He had turned sixteen back in July for god sake!

"What did you say to me bitch?" he asked straightening up from his slouch to show Matthew how much he towered over him. But he didn't back down.

"I said: Fuck. Off," his voice was quiet, per usual, but had an edge to it that could cut steel, "Now."

The white jeaned boy sneered at him, stepping closer. "You little bitch; you better watch that fucking mouth," he snarled lifting Matthew up by the front of his hoodie, "before I cut out your pretty little tongue."

"Marcus," Gilbert's voice was low and threatening, murderous, "Let go of him or get your hand chopped off."

The blonde –Marcus, he finally learned –continued to glare for a full minute. Then he finally let go and hugged away.

"Come on, Vögelchen," Gilbert said leading him through the gate by the wrist, "Let's go before he comes back vith his hockey stick."

"I've been hit with a hockey stick, Gil," he said a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he remembered the amazing game he played last year, "It's not that bad. Don't worry." Ok, that was a lie. It stung like a bitch.

"His has barbed vire on it," Ludwig added fishing his keys out of the pocket of his blue plaid pants. School regulation pants that were ugly as fuck.

"Who hit you?" Gilbert asked angrily but by the look in his eyes Matthew could tell he was just worried.

"It was just in a hockey game I had last year. I had 'accidentally' tripped the other teams' guy with my stick and the ref didn't call it. Idiot. But, anyway, his brother saw what I did and when he rotated in, he came up and cross checked me." Gilbert just blinked at him as he looked around the livingroom.

It was small but homey. There was a flight of stairs to the right, right in front of the front door, to the left was a brown suede couch with two matching, beat up recliners, a marked up coffee table, a TV and a yellow, red and black woven rug. There was also a doorway that led to the kitchen, where Ludwig and Feliciano currently were, on the wall opposite the front door.

"I like your house," Matthew said honestly. It was small and cozy, a little worn looking, but that just added to its charm and appeal.

The older male scoffed, "It's crap. Zis whole neighborhood is crap. It's too noisy, too crowded."

He tried to muffle his giggle and only half succeeded. "Be careful Gil," he teased, "you're starting to sound like an old man."

Gilbert blushed, pouting indignantly. So fucking cute… "Vhat are you talking about?!" he exclaimed puffing out his chest and banging on it, beginning to swagger away, "I'm no old man! I'm awesome! I'm young and free and-." Just then he walked into a side table, "Verdammit! My hip!"

He couldn't help but laugh hysterically, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Trying to hold it in, he wrapped his left arm around the albino's waist and rubbed the injured hip with his right hand. "Aw~ poor Gil," Matthew said in his fake baby voice, "Did you hurt yourself?"

The Senior pouted, slinging his arm around his shoulders. "Ja, poor awesome me," Gilbert said resting his cheek on the top of his blonde head, "Are you going to kiss it better?"

He blushed and tried to stammer out a reply, "N-No, I-I-I mean I-."

"Kesesesese I'm just kidding Vӧgelchen!" he chuckled leading the young blonde to a door in the kitchen, "Meine room's down in ze basement."

"Ve~ Gil, will you and…Ma…Mark want pasta?" Feli asked taking out pots and pans. Ludwig let him do as he wanted, choosing to sit at the table and do his homework.

"Matthew," Gilbert practically snarled, his arm tensing and tightening around the afore mentioned's shoulders, "His name's Matthew."

"Ve~ I'm sorry," the Italian said tears in his eyes as he looked somewhere behind Matthew, "I-I didn't mean to! Ve~ I'm sorry, por favore, don't hurt me! I won't do it again, please don't send Carlos and Tim after me-."

"It's ok Feli," Matthew quietly interrupted as the albino opened the door to the basement, "Don't worry about it, just make your pasta."

"Ve~ ok!"

Gilbert led him down the narrow stairs to the basement. It had cement floors with a drain in the middle, cement walls painted brown and one lone wall painted green. There was an ancient looking TV, a futon, a lawn chair, a freezer –one that you could put a dead body in –and a pool table with worn sticks and faded green velvet. Gilbert flicked on a light switch and his companion noticed the space heaters placed around the room and the blinds covering the tiny windows. "Sorry it's so crappy," he apologized once he saw the blonde looking at it in awe.

"N-Non, I mean, no!" Matthew stammered looking up at his friend with wide eyes, "I like it! It's-."

"Shitty, crappy, garabage-."

The Sophomore slammed a hand over his mouth, accidently pressing their bodies together. "…cozy," he breathed trying to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head with pleasure, "It…i-it's cozy…"

Gilbert could feel Matthew, all of Matthew, against him and his hands rested on his hips naturally. The albino couldn't help but think how good he felt. He was small and feminine, long legs and thighs that were a little wide from muscle Gilbert figured was from hockey. The muscle, however, was soft and were just begging to squeeze his waist as he sat between them. His waist was small but not too much so that Gilbert could wrap his hands around it. Matthew's stomach was flat and his shoulders slender, narrow. He was soft and curvy where he should be; his ass plump, and round and perky. Absolutely squeezable and grabbable, begging for Gilbert's hands. The albino's mouth watered and he had to swallow as he tried to control his blush.

_Mattie's so delicious –**TAKE HIM** –no, he's too innocent –**WANT HIM** –too fragile –**TAKE HIM!**_

Matthew, unbeknownst to the older male, was having the same predicament. His face was beat red, his lips slightly parted to suck in harsh, hissing breathes. Gilbert's body was lean compared to his brother's, but he liked it more. He could feel strong shins and thighs, built for running over uneven terrain, hard arms that were more pleasant in size. They were big, not massive, with slightly beefy hands that held his hips and warmed him to the bone. He could feel slightly out lined abs as he leaned into him subconsciously, hard pectorals beneath his hands and broad shoulder that were probably twice the size of his own shoulders. Matthew had seen other men naked, had had sex before, yet being pressed up against Gilbert it was like he was a blushing virgin again.

_He's gorgeous –**disgusting** –I want to touch him –**sinful** –and taste him –**worthless piece of shit **–I just want all of him –**burn in hell!**_

All at once, it came crashing down on them. The full realization of what they were doing and they pulled away at the same time, blushing.

"S-Sorry…" Matthew mumbled looking down at his feet.

"N-Nein, it vas my fault," he said quickly, "L-Let's just go to meine awesome bedroom."

He blushed and quickly nodded, following him around the corner to a closed door that had a "BEWARE OF DOG" sign on it. The albino opened it, revealing a room that made Matthew smile.

The walls, ceiling and floors were once again all cement. This time, however, the walls and ceiling were painted black with the walls covered in colorful graffiti and the grey floor was stained with drops of paint. There was a cream shag rug, a queen sized bed shoved against the wall with white sheets and a handmade quilt folded at the end of it. There was also a tall bookshelf piled with books, a dresser littered with cologne bottles and tins of hair gel, there was an old nineteenth century chest, an organized desk, a space heater in the corner and a bedside table topped with a box of tissues as well as a lamp with a zebra print shade, a purple base and purple feathers around the edge of the lamp shade.

"You're room's awe-awesome Gilbert!" he exclaimed looking around in amazement, he noticed a white birdcage in the corner with a small, yellow figure inside. "Mon dieu, is that a-?"

"Kesesese, zhat's Gilbird!" the albino chuckled at Matthew's adorable reaction. The blonde's eyes twinkled and he gasped, smiling and blushing.

"He's…he's…he's _so cute!_" the Sophomore practically squealed, clasping his hands to his heart, "Oh, Gil, c-can I hold him? Please?"

He melted, his heart thumping loudly. It was the happiest Gilbert had ever seen him and he knew, in that instant, he would kill to see his smile. He couldn't say no to Matthew, not ever, if that meant he could see his eyes sparkle, his whole being radiating happiness. "J-Ja," he breathed, blushing, "Let me open ze cage zough."

"Ok!" Matthew said bouncing on the balls of his feet. He waited as the Senior went to the cage and opened the door. The small, yellow fluff ball that was Gilbird moved. He ruffled his feathers and blinked up at Gilbert, chirping excitedly and flying to his palm.

"Hallo, meine awesome buddy," he crooned petting the bird's tiny skull with his index finger, "Come meet-." Before Gilbert could finish the sentence, his bird had flown off his palm toward Matthew. The yellow fluff ball tweeted, flying around his head before landing on his shoulder and snuggling into the crook of his neck.

"Bonjour, cutie," the blonde said gently petting underneath the bird's chin with the tip of his index finger. The bird tweeted and nuzzled closer in his neck, hiding behind his long hair.

"Wow, I've never seen Gilbird like someone so quickly," Gilbert said watching the Sophomore coo compliments at the bird, jealousy burning in his chest, "It took month for him to be nice to Francis and Tonio. Ve've been friends for ages und you und ze awesome me have only been friends for a month!" The older male didn't mean to sound spiteful, or mean, but he couldn't help it. He was acting petty. For fuck's sake, who was envious of a bird?!

"Maybe I'm just special then," he said smirking, "Plus, I'm not as obnoxious as them."

"Kesesese! I'm starting to zink you have an ego, Birdie," the albino chuckled, "Maybe I'm rubbing off on you." _Maybe my crazy is contagious._

Matthew laughed, walking over to Gilbert's bed. When he approached it, a low growl made him jump. "Gilbert!" he squeaked looking at the bed with big eyes, "W-What was that?!"

"Oh," he chuckled lifting up the blanket and looking under the bed, "Zhat's one of meine dogs."

"…D-Does he bite?"

Gilbert chuckled again, reaching under the bed. "She," he corrected pulling out a German Shepard by _her_ collar, "Und neine. Blackie's a sweetheart…sometimes." The blonde gaped, eyes growing wider and mouth dropping as Gilbird chirped angrily at his owner. "Kesesese, meine Gott, your face!" he exclaimed laughing hysterically, "You vere so scared!"

The Sophomore blushed in embarrassment and looked down at the toes of his boots. Gilbert was laughing at him. "Good to know I amuse you," he mumbled feeling Gilbird peak at his jaw in comfort.

When he looked up, his laughter abruptly stopped. Matthew had such a sad, lost look on his face like he might cry. And the blush that was on his face, the one Gilbert thought was absolutely adorable, wasn't cute. Instead it was pitiful and made him sick with guilt. A feeling he's all too familiar with. "Hey," he said his voice dropping down to a serious tone, "I vasn't laughing at you…I'm sorry." He took a step forward –in retrospect it had been a terrible decision; if he had chosen to do something else perhaps the tragedy that followed wouldn't have ever occurred –and wrapped his arms around the blonde.

As he gave the smaller male the hug he felt his heart pause and speed up as Matthew's arms came up to clutch at the red hoodie covering his shoulder blades. He wanted to protect the small blonde, wanted him to know love and friendship. Gilbert got a feeling that, inside, he was shattered and the albino wanted to be the one to pick up the pieces. Wanted to be the one to put them back together and help him heal. Even if it meant that he got cut in the process.

This was different than the other times he had "fallen", this time his urge was _protect_ not _possess._

When both men pulled away they were blushing. "S-So…" Matthew said sitting down on the bed and the dog curled at the foot of its owner's bed. "U-Uhm, do you have a lot? Of animals I mean…"

Gilbert smirked, beginning to disrobe. "Well in addition to Gilbird and her" –he pointed to where the two animals were coiled up –"two other dogs and we have stray cats zhat we feed."

"Aw~ I can't wait to see them," he gushed quickly looking away when the Senior started to take off his pants, the abs and pale chest were distracting enough.

"Yeah…ze dogs are in ze backyard I zink…" Gilbert said, "She's really ze only one zhat sneaks inside."

He giggled, resisting the urge to take a look at his friend's mostly naked body.

"Ok Birdie!" the albino hummed in a sing song tone of voice, "My body is ready!"

Matthew chuckled, turning back around. His smile quickly dropped with his jaw and he blushed. Gilbert just looked so _hot!_ He wore skinny jeans ripped at the knees, a black tank top two sizes too big that said "You Can't Handle My Five Meters!" in white letters, a black leather jacket and black combat boots with red laces. The outfit suited him well and the way the light shown on his messy white hair, how his dangerous red eyes glinted, made him look like a god. Like he was sex and lust personified. Matthew swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to act like a harlot and throw himself at the albino. "You look nice," he managed to choke out, his voice cracking embarrassingly as he did.

"I'm awesomely sexy, right?!" Gilbert exclaimed, more excited than Matthew thought necessary, "Come on, let's go spread our sexiness!" He grabbed the other by the wrist and began to yank him out of the room. The German Shepard followed Matthew closely, licking the calves of Matthew's boots, and Gilbird flew above them, chirping excitedly. "No one's vital regions are safe from us!"

Matthew blushed, chuckling awkwardly, "V-Vital regions?"

"Yeah! I vill invade everyone's vital regions!" the Senior shouted as he slammed open the basement door and slid into the kitchen, "No one is safe! Not even you, Vögelchen!"

"E-EH?!" he shouted face turning a red that rivaled the German's eyes.

"BRUDER!" Ludwig shouted blushing bright red, once again finding his brother saying something embarrassing and looking up from his homework, "Don't talk like zhat around Matthew and Feliciano!" The young German made the mistake in thinking the two effeminate males were naïve virgins.

Matthew looked at the Italian. He was standing behind Ludwig at the stove; he looked over his shoulder at Matthew, a perverted smirk stretching across his face. _Guess Feli is more perverted than everyone thought…_ Matthew mused, blushing when the Italian winked. Feliciano turned all the way around, an innocent look taking over his face but the perverted sparkle in his eyes was still there.

"Luddy?" Feli said his voice naïve, childlike and slightly whiney, "Ve~ what is he talking about?"

Ludwig blushed and said, rather loudly, "NOZING! Go back to making pasta!"

The Italian smiled, trying not to laugh. "But-but I wanna know~!" he whined clearing finding it amusing.

Matthew wondered how the other blonde could be so oblivious.

"PSSSSST! Birdie!" the albino stage whispered and he looked up at the grinning white haired male, "Let's go vhile zhey're arguing!" They ran out of the house as quietly as they could. For Matthew it was pretty easy since he had a lot of experience sneaking in and out of his house. Gilbert, on the other hand, was like a bull in a china shop.

They were able to get to the car, though, Gilbert with a few minor bruises. Luckily, Marcus was nowhere in sight. They panted, just sitting there before the albino started to randomly laugh. Matthew looked at him, confused; until he saw the German's cheeks blush pink and tears glitter at the corners of his eyes. He looked absolutely adorable and breath-taking. The Sophomore had to fight the urge to cup his face and kiss his smiling mouth. _What's wrong with me?_ He wondered as he started to giggle, Gilbert's laugh was contagious. _Why am I thinking like this –**your thoughts are disgusting, wrong, wrong, wrong** –he's my friend! My probably –**definitely** –straight friend._

"Oi! Zhat vas fun," Gilbert said wiping away his tears and his laughter fit ending with a chuckle, "But ve should probably go before anzing closes. You vanna listen to Hollyvood Undead?" _(Hollywood Undead)_

"O-Oui," he nodded smiling a little, he was glad they liked the same music, "Where are we going first?"

"Let's go to ze arcade!" the older male said his voice louder than the song "No.5" that was playing, "I know a guy zhat can give us extra change!"

* * *

Matthew let himself into the kitchen through the back door, shoes in hand. He had walked two miles from Gil's doorstep to his house and his feet were killing him. Quietly, he closed and locked the door before sliding across the tiled floors through the kitchen, transitioning to hardwood then sliding across that to the grand staircase. _Almost there, almost there,_ he chanted as his blood rushed in his ears, _So close, so close._ All of a sudden, the light flicked on and temporarily blinded him. His brief blindness was enough to cause him to trip and hit his chin on one of the steps. He groaned, holding his throbbing face and checking his jaw to make sure it wasn't broken.

"You're. Late." _That voice…_it was cold, sharp and hard like steel, hinting at a barely disguised rage. Matthew's eyes widened in fear and he turned to look at the man that had turned on the light.

His father stood in a white robe and blue pajama bottoms, brown hair tucked behind his ears and his lips pressed in a thin line. There were frown lines around his mouth and his dark blue eyes were detached. He still held the light switch between his thumb and index finger as he stared at the teen intensely.

"W-What?" he stammered sitting up and shuffling to the corner of the stairs.

His father's eyebrow twitched.

**_mistake, mistake. you made a mistake._**

"I don't like to repeat myself, boy," he growled his teeth and fists clenching. Matthew inhaled shakily, trying to make himself smaller. "You're late," his father repeated harshly, "Why are you coming home so late? Returning from committing blasphemy? You disgrace shit!"

The teen flinched, "N-No! I was just hanging out w-with a friend-."

"Those demonic boys!" he shouted face now red with furry. His hand whipped out, back handing Matthew across the face. He whimpered, tears springing forth from his eyes as he cradled his stinging cheek. "Haven't you learned your lesson from last time?!"

Again, he flinched. Once, his father had caught him trying to sneak back into his room after a party. It…hadn't ended well. "I-I wasn't partying," he said his voice whiney and watery, "I was getting pizza-."

"Silence!" Mr. Jones snapped fist flying out only to connect to his son's face. He fell down the stairs and grunted once he landed on the hard floor. "It is written in the word of God; written in the stones He handed Moses on his pilgrimage up Mount Sinai! You dare go against His laws? Blasphemers and harlots will rot in Hell!" He started to kick the teen, "Do I need to beat it into you, boy? Do you need to learn a lesson?"

Matthew covered his head and face, tears running down his cheeks as his body began to thrum with numbness. His body was on fire as he tried to drag air into his deprived lungs. He didn't know how long the kicking lasted; he began to tune everything out. His mind, his treacherous mind, began to think of Gilbert and he began to feel better. He remembered his weird laugh and crooked smile, how both were so infectious. Matthew couldn't remember when he had smiled and laughed so much. Remembering how Gil's arm felt around his neck made him blush, and remembering the way those blood red eyes trained on him made his heart skip beats.

_Oh, fuck! Am I…Am I starting to like-like him?!_

The thought made Matthew sick. Even when his father had stopped his abuse, had spit on him and stomped up the stairs, even after he had started to feel waves of pain he continued to lay on the ground. He welcomed the pain in his abdomen as he wallowed in self-disgust. It wasn't fair of him, to turn his vile thoughts on Gilbert. His German friend shouldn't have to suffer being the object of Matthew's –**_lust_** –lust. Matthew only hoped that God would be merciful. He only hoped that the albino's soul would be saved.

* * *

**Soooooo yeaaaaaaaaah that's it**

**I hope you liked it I'M SO SORRY for not updating sooner **

**LOVE YOU**

* * *

_**Characters that have appeared:**_

**Alfred (America)**

**Gilbert (Prussia)**

**Arthur (England)**

**Francis (France)**

**Matthew (Canada)**

**Ludwig (Germany)**

**Feliciano (North Italy)**

**Marcus (2p!Canada)**

**Katherine (OC) (Mattie's mommy)**

**Mr. Jones (OC) (Al and Mattie's daddy)**

**Madame Bonnefoy (Fem!France) (Franny's mommy)**

**Ivan (Russia)**

**Yao (China)**

* * *

**So...ja...I think that's it...**

**If I missed some characters and you're wondering who they are just tell me in the comments and i'll clear it up next chapter**

**Don't forget to leave a comment/review/favorite and-or follow this**

**Hasta luego mi corazons**

**~kitty **


	3. Gilbert

**Welcome to chapter three!**

**This mainly focuses on Gilbert**

**SOOOO I wanna explain Gil's and Mattie's thoughts a little here:**

**Gilbert and Matthew have SERIOUS mental issues. You can probably infer how Mattie got his BUT Gilbert's will be explained in later chapters. Matthew's inner mental thoughts are usually comments that his father has said to him or would say, his conscious –like the angel on his shoulder –rarely shows up but this is what his conscious looks like **(_expert from the last chapter:_ **_mistake, mistake. you made a mistake_**_) _**it's in all lower case because it rarely shows up and has dimmed out over the years. Gil's inner mental thoughts are in all caps because they aren't really self-hating most of the time but because they're less self-loathing that means they're more violent.**

_**Warnings: yaoi(ish), FRANCIS, mentions of abuse, triggering childhood memories**_

* * *

_"You are the hole in my head_

_You are the space in my bed_

_You are the silence in between what I thought_

_And what I said_

_You are the night time fear_

_You are the morning when it's clear_

_When it's over you'll start_

_You're my head_

_You're my heart_

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_

_I never knew daylight could be so violent_

_A revelation in the light of day…_

_And I'd do anything to make you stay_

_No light, no light_

_No light_

_Tell me what you want me to say"_

_~No Light, No Light _by Florence and the Machine

* * *

**_Chapter Three_**

_Flashback:_

When he was seven, he lived in America. He went to school, played in the park and had plastic container full of stuffed animals and legos. He even had friends that he could have sleepovers with. There was Francis, a blonde boy who spoke French and flirted with all the girls despite the threat of cooties. There was also Antonio, an emerald eyed brunette that loved tomatoes, Spanish soap operas and a boy named "Lovi~" who he met on a family vacation to Italy. They called themselves the "Bad Friends Trio" or BFT for short.

One day, Gilbert and Antonio were on the swings, waiting for Francis to show up and arguing about what was better: wurst or tomatoes. Needless to say, by the time Francis got there the two first graders had nearly come to blows. "What iz this, mon amis?" Francis asked with a smirk, "No doubt fighting over moi!" The blonde punctuated his statement with a hair flip and a wink.

"Ugh that's gross!" Antonio huffed crossing his arms and pouting, "Besides, everyone knows Lovi's mi amour, mi corazón-."

"Ja, ja, whatever," Gilbert interrupted planting his hands on his tiny hips and glaring, "Ze point is: no one vould ever like you like zhat, Francis."

The French boy grabbed his chest, faking hurt, "You wound moi, Gilbert! I thought you loved me~!"

"Hell no!" he grinned causing his other companions to laugh. As the others laughed, Gilbert noticed a small blond boy hiding behind his French friend. "Hey, Francy-Pants!" he shouted loud enough to make the little boy flinch, "Who's zhat behind you?"

Francis blinked, tilting his head in confusion, "What are you talking about? No one's be'ind me." The little boy blushed, his eyes watering and his tiny fists curled tighter into the back of the older boy's shirt.

"Of course zhere is!" the albino snapped face palming, "Just look, dumb ass!"

He did and jumped, squealing like a girl. "Matthieu! Mon ange, you nearly gave Papa Francis a 'eart attack!" he exclaimed, panting, before he hugged the little boy around the neck.

"Huh?" Antonio asked confused, "Who is that amigo?"

"Ja! Introduce him to ze Awesome Me!"

"Zo modest," Francis said sarcastically, before presenting his little friend like he was a new purse, "This, mon amis, iz Matthieu! 'e iz going to be a little me! We're cousins but could be brothers!" The little boy was bright red and shaking, trying desperately to hide behind Francis, but the older boy's grip on his shoulders prevented him from doing so. "I 'ave taken 'im under mon wing! That's why 'e 'as to call moi 'Papa Francis'. I'm like a Papa, right, mon cher?"

Little Matthew looked like a deer in the head lights, lip quivering and about to cry. "How old are you?" Gilbert asked gently, his heart going out to the cute little boy.

"Mm…I-I'm f-fi-five," he stammered looking at his Velcro shoes and rubbing his eyes with both fists.

A blush bloomed on his face as he looked at Matthew, face twitching. He was…so freaking cute! Meine Gott! "My bruder is five," he said bending so he was eye level with the little boy, "He likes to play on ze swings…Do you like ze swings?"

Matthew's blush stayed on his face and he nodded. "O-Oui…"

"See!" Francis' squeal drew everyone's attention back to him, "I'm even teaching 'im French! 'e iz mon protégé!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, grabbing Matthew's hand before leading the small boy to the swings.

For weeks, they played together. The albino's purpose was starting to become making the small boy smile and giggle that girly giggle Gilbert thought was the funniest shit ever! He went to the park every day and when he came home it was dark. He'd sit at the dinner table with his bruder and his parents and talk about little Matthew non-stop. After about a month his parents started giving him weird looks, along with his brother.

"Gilbert," his father interrupted as the albino was talking about how much Matthew loved polar bears.

"Hm? Ja, Vati?" he questioned shoving a spoonful of wurst and potato dumplings in his mouth.

"Gilbert, do you really zhink zhis 'Mazhew' exists?"

He bristled, glaring stubbornly at his father. "Of course he exists!" the seven year old snapped.

"Gil, libeling, I zhink vat your Vati is trying to ask is: are you sure he isn't an _imaginary_ friend?" his mother said gently.

Her gentle words and her soft smile did nothing for him. "Nein! He's real!" Gilbert shouted slamming his fists on the table.

"Gilbert, don't bang ze table and don't yell at your Mutti!"

"Go to hell, Vati!"

A meaty hand slapped his face. The little albino held his cheek, stunned but not surprised. "You don't talk like zhat to me in zhis house, under my roof!" his father hissed face red in anger.

Gilbert glared at him before getting up, pushing the chair in with a bang and stomping up the stairs. His father was about to follow him, in order to ground him, but he was held back by the gentle caress of Gilbert's mother's hand on his elbow.

"Let him go cool down," she said to her husband, "I'm sure he vill apologize ven he's calmer."

~oOo~

Gilbert hurried to the park the next day. He had to stay after school because he was still angry at what his parents had said the night before. His anger had caused him to hit a Russian boy in the mouth. He sprinted to the swings, their unofficial official meeting place, but what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

He saw Matthew in a too big blue sweatshirt –the kind without a hood –his black Velcro sneakers and black cargo shorts with his polar bear stuffed animal hugged close to his chest. But that wasn't what made him stop. The little boy sat in a man's lap, sucking on a lollipop. Gilbert had seen the man a couple times, watching the children play on the playground. He had greasy hair, crocked black and yellow teeth, sores on his face and neck and he always wore the same outfit: a puffy grey coat, tattered jeans and brown slippers all with weird stains on it. Today, however, he had on clean jeans, a clean green hoodies and new, white sneakers. He still had the dirty hair, ugly teeth and sores, though.

Immediately, Gilbert got a bad feeling.

Matthew looked over at him, smiling and waving, "Gil! Gilbert, over here!" The man tore his gaze from Matthew, annoyance making his eyebrow twitch.

He tried to smile back as he approached his friend and the strange man. "Hallo, Mattie," he greeted, looking back and forth between the two on the park bench, "Who's zhis?"

"Oh!" the blonde said taking his lollipop out of his mouth for a moment, "This is my new friend! I was waiting for you and-and I had my drawing to show you, but the-the wind blew it away when I dr-dropped it! He-He saved it and he was nice and gave me candy a-d sat with me 'cause you were late and stuff!"

Gilbert smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, Matthew! I got in trouble after school." His eyes went to the greasy man, noticing his hand way too high on the blonde's leg. "Yo, asshat, don't touch him," the albino snapped eyes narrowing to slits.

"What did you say, kid?" he hissed hand tightening around Matthew's thigh. It was obvious the greasy stranger hated the German and _sickeningly favored_ Matthew.

"Huh? G-Gilbert, what's wrong?" the child asked, recognizing the twitch in the albino's jaw he got when he was upset.

Gilbert smiled tightly, still glaring at the adult. "Nothing," Gilbert lied through gritted teeth, "Vhy don't you come over here und show me zhat drawing?"

"Oui~!" Matthew hummed wiggling out of the stranger's grasp excitedly. He pulled the folded up paper from beneath his polar bear's red ribbon. "See?" he exclaimed smiling brightly and pulling the hem of the older boy's shirt. "I…drew it special for you," he added blushing and burying his face in his bear's fur.

The picture was a stick figure-Gilbert, drawn in black crayon with red dots for eyes, riding on a giant, yellow baby chick. There were clouds colored in purple and pick circle-scribble like blobs as well as a periwinkle colored sky. Gilbert blushed, smiling gently at the younger boy. "Da-Danke Mattie," he said his blush brightening when the blonde hugged his torso. A smug smile made its way onto his face and he looked at the stranger, who was shaking in rage. "Let's go, _Mattie~_" he said practically rubbing it in the adult's face that Matthew liked the albino better.

"If you say so Gilbert!" the blonde said naïve to the glare war going on over his shoulder.

~oOo~

"Hey, Gilbert?" Matthew asked a long time later, the sun hung low and looked like it was about to set. They sat in a patch of pine trees, laying in the grass and plucking at grass.

"Ja, vat's up?" he asked looking up at the other boy. The albino rested on his elbows while Matthew sat on his knees.

"D-Do you ever get these feelings in your tummy? W-When you're around someone?" he asked cheeks heating up in embarrassment, "L-Like, it feels like worms but it kinda tickles t-too…?"

Gilbert's face mimicked the other boy's and he shifted uncomfortably. "Um…a-are you talking about…having a crush on some-someone?"

The five year old shrugged, not looking at him. "I guess," Matthew admitted quietly, "Bu-But do you ever get like that around boys?"

"Dunno…" he lied looking at the boy who had shifted closer to him. By just looking at his cute, angelic face, Gilbert felt the butterflies in his stomach and his heart quicken in anxiety. "S-S-Sometimes…"

"'Cause I get them around you. A lot," Matthew said tears welling up in his eyes, "I-I'm sorry…"

"N-Nein!" he said sitting up on his knees and hugging the boy, "It's ok, Mattie, don't apologize! I…I feel zhat vay around you too."

"You…you do?" Matthew asked wiping his face with a fist, his blue eyes wide and hopeful, "You m-mean it?"

Nodding, he kissed his friend's forehead. "Ja, of course, Mattie," the seven year old whispered hugging the other tighter. Matthew giggled nuzzling into the crook of his friend's neck.

From then on, every time they played at the park they'd give each other chaste kisses. Little kisses on the forehead, the cheeks, the nose, on the eyelids, the top of the head, the back of the hand or a peck on the lips. At dinner time he began to talk about Matthew more and more.

"…and I bought a ring from ze vending machine using my quarter und I asked Mattie to marry me!" Gilbert was saying as he tore fried chicken off the bone, "You should've seen his face! He looked like a tomato!"

His parents looked at each other.

"Gilbert, meine liebe, ve have somezhing to tell you," his mother said holding her husband's hand on the table.

"Vat, Mutti?"

"V-Vell…" she stammered looking at her husband for assistance. What she was about to say would greatly upset her son, she knew, and she really didn't want to be the one to tell him the news.

Seeming to understand this, Gil's father smiled reassuringly and kissed her temple. "Boys!" he said his voice authoritative, "I've just got a job promotion!"

"Congragulations, Vati," Ludwig said with a small smile. For some reason, the seven year old's stomach dropped.

"Danke, Ludwig," their father said with a curt nod, "Zhis promotion requires for us to move. Ve vill have to move to Germany."

"Ve are going back!" their mother said with a cheerful smile and honest enthusiasm, "Isn't zhat great? Gilbert, you haven't been zhere since you vere a baby and, Ludwig, you get to finally see your ancestry! Aren't you two excited?"

Ludwig smiled, "It sounds interesting. I can't vait to see it."

Their mother smiled and giggled, turning to look beseechingly at her eldest. "Vhat about you Gil?"

The albino felt ill, as if he was going to vomit and he shook his head. "No…no! How can you do zhis?! Vat about Matthew?! I can't just leave him! I-I love him, I can't go-!"

"Gilbert!" his father interrupted banging his fist on the table, "Enough! Zhis 'imaginary friend' nonsense has gone on long enough!"

"Imaginary…friend…?" he asked confused.

"Sweetie, ve called Ms. Bonnefoy," his mother said gently, "und she said Francis doesn't have any cousins in America…"

"…wha…? N-Nien! Mattie's real!" the seven year old cried, tears welling up in his eyes, "I play vith him all ze time! Ve're going to ge-!"

"He isn't real!" his father snapped, "Zhere is no 'Mazhew'! Ve are moving next veek, no objections!"

"I…" tears started to drip down his cheeks as he sniffled and hiccupped, "I hate you! I hope you die!" Before his father could get angry at him, Gilbert ran up the stairs to his room and slammed the door. The force was enough to make the frames in the hallway fall off the wall.

~oOo~

"I'm moving back to Germany."

"Eh?" Matthew looked up from his drawing, a picture of the two of them riding on a giant polar bear, his blue eyes wide and confused.

He swallowed thickly, guilt metallic in his mouth. "My Vati got a promotion…ve have to move back to Germany," he said quietly, tears making his vision waver.

"Bu-But…" the five year old stuttered his own eyes glassy, "What about me?"

"I'm sorry, Mattie," Gilbert said kissing his cheek and holding him tightly, "I vill never forget you. I promise." The albino held his sweetheart, making sure the scent of pine and maple syrup would forever be implanted in his memory.

_:End of Flashback_

* * *

Gilbert woke up to a screaming alarm clock, bed sheets tangled in his legs. "Bruder! East, get up!" his brother shouted his hair already slicked back and his uniform on.

"I vas getting up, you unawesome asshole," he muttered pulling himself up and out of bed as soon as Ludwig left. The albino slept in the nude and there was no way his brother would see the five meters Ludwig wished he was endowed with. He padded across his cold concrete floor, his German Shepard snorting softly as she moved to lie on Gilbert's pillow. Gilbird tweeted questioningly as his owner pulled on Pikachu boxers –_they were awe-fucking-some, ok!_ –and a black t-shirt. "Sorry, Gilbird," he apologized rubbing the bird's back with the tip of his index finger, "I vil take you out another time. Just not today."

The yellow chick's feathers ruffled indignantly as he left his perch to sit on the dog's head.

"Calm ze fuck down, I said I vas sorry," Gilbert breathed rolling his eyes and shimmying his plaid pants up his hips, "I'm still zhinking about…back zhen, I'm not ze happiest of company, meine little birdie."

"I thought I was your 'little birdie'~?"

The German spun around to see Matthew leaning seductively against his bedroom door.

"Birdie? V-Vat are you doing here?!" he asked eyes roaming over the blonde's arched body.

"Here to see you, duh," the shorter teen purred, striding purposefully up to Gil. Matthew placed a hand on his chest, his tongue sliding up his throat. "Aren't you glad to see me, Gil~?"

"Birdie, I-."

"Gilbert, hurry or you'll be late!" that was his grandfather now.

"J-Ja! Just give me a sec!" he yelled knowing his voice would carry up the stairs. He turned back to Mattie-. But he was gone. Realization dawned as he sighed, pulling on a white button down over his t-shirt. _He was just a hallucination…I'm seeing things again…_ "So unawesome," Gilbert muttered running his hand through his hair, "Ugh, let's go Gilbird! Awesome hair doesn't make itself."

His yellow friend chirped in agreement, flying with him to the minuscule bathroom beneath the staircase. Gilbert took out a can of hair gel and spread a small big on both hands before running them through his snow white hair. The albino tussled it, spiking up a few pieces to give the illusion of stylish bedhead. "Don't I look awesome?!" he exclaimed taking a moment to admire himself, he got an enthusiastic tweet from Gilbert. "You like? Ok, let's do you!"

He placed the unaware bird on his palm, slicking up his thumb and index finger and spiking up Gilbird's feathers. "Wa~ La~" Gilbert exclaimed holding up his bird so their faces were right next to each other's in the mirror, "Aren't ve sexy beasts!"

Gilbird seemed to scowl at their reflection for a moment before angrily pecking at the albino's hand, clearly not amused.

"Ow, you little shit!" he hissed letting the bird go. The little puff ball had to stop his pecking and fly so that he wouldn't fall. Gilbird few away indignantly, chirping angrily the entire time. "You could've told me it vas your time of ze month, you bitch!" Gilbert yelled quickly running up the stairs so he wouldn't be attacked.

"Fight vith your bird again?" his grandpa asked with a tinge of amusement. Gilbert glared at the old man, walking to the fridge for orange juice.

"Make sure to take your medication," Ludwig said sipping his coffee.

He stared at the mugs his grandpa and brother had longingly, but he couldn't have coffee with his meds. "It's too fucking early for you two to be fucking nagging me!" Gilbert hissed snatching the orange bottle one of his blonde family members had placed on the counter.

"Gilbert, vatch your language," his grandfather said plainly, unfazed by his outburst.

The albino huffed flicking two pills in his mouth and chugging down some OJ. "I'm going to go brush my teeth now," he said tossing the plastic cup in the sink to be washed later. As soon as he closed the door to the small bathroom, he spit his pills into the toilet. Now he _knew_ he wasn't seeing things and could renew his pill hiding techniques. Hiding them between his gum and cheek, beneath his tongue, fake swallowing. He quickly brushed his teeth, grabbed his book bag from by the front door and called his brother as he popped cinnamon flavored gum in his mouth.

Gilbert wanted to look like the sexy beast he was, wanted to accentuate his awesomeness. He wanted to look good for that boy he had fallen for so chastely. But he's not a boy. He's no longer five. No, that was right. Matthew was sixteen now with a gorgeous, small body. He had a gentle voice, soft skin and –oh God, his mind kept on going back to his body! _His body, his body, his body,_ his mind repeated like a mantra, a prayer. And it was almost like a prayer; too, Matthew's body was worship worth. Gilbert wanted more from the blonde, more than just chaste pecks. Now he knew the wonders of human anatomy, he wanted Matthew. All of him.

~oOo~

"Ohonhonhonhon~ I 'eard you were with petite Matthieu Friday," Francis said slinging an arm around the albino's shoulders.

He tried not to blush as he sneered and pushed the blonde off. "Ve vere just hanging out," Gilbert said rolling his eyes, "You vouldn't understand because you lack ze awesomeness…you just have ze pervertedness."

"I am not a pervert!" he said with a very feminine gasp, "I simply spread l'amour! I am cupid, I am-!"

"I'm pretty sure Kirkland doesn't vant your 'l'amour'."

"…You butcher my language."

"Love you too Franny."

"Amigos, are you fighting about Gil speaking French again?" Antonio asked appearing out of nowhere behind the albino.

"Nein ve are talking about how he'll never get into caterpillar brows's pants," he corrected with a wicked smirk,

"Why do you want to fuck _him?_" the Spaniard asked nose scrunching up in a disgusted sneer, "Es muy feo." _(He's really ugly)_

"Ohon! Antonio, mon ami, would you rather be fucked by moi instead?" he asked smirking pervertedly.

"No thanks, I'm good!"

"Speaking of fucking," Francis said looking over his shoulder, he turned and wiggled his eyebrows at the albino, "There iz Matthieu, mon fils, now."

His head snapped up, looking around excitedly. The hallway was crowded and he saw a lot of people that he recognized from his classes.

Ivan was hiding behind his big breasted sister as Natalia tried to reach him, chanting, "Marry me, big brother, marry me! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY, KATYUSHA! Marry me~!" Eliza and Kiku sat on the floor, looking through a manga. The cover was covered in hearts and roses, R-18 in the corner in pink, glittery cursive. Small, fragile looking Lili seemed to be scolding her older brother. Vash had a terrified look in his eyes as he looked at his sister, still holding a trembling Latvian by his collar. Eduard, who always seemed to be hanging out with Raivis, seemed like he was trying to coax the Latvian into calming down. Toris and Feliks were nowhere to be seen.

Matthias was trying to hug Lukas, his Norwegian crush, but kept on getting pushed away. Emil watched as his brother kept on getting sexually harassed, occasionally saying something to a Chinese boy with thick eyebrows. The two other members of the group of Nordics weren't paying attention to the Dane, like _at all_. Instead the scary Swede had a small, effeminate Tino pressed against the lockers. Long Finnish legs were wrapped around a strong waist, small hands roaming a broad chest as they made out. Practically having sex in the hallway.

But he didn't see wavy blonde-brown hair or an obvious male-female hybrid body type. As soon as he turned to face his friends, to ask if they saw where he'd went, he realized that he had been played. The both of them were trying so desperately to hide and control their giggles.

"You're bastards," Gilbert growled slamming his locker closed and leaning on it.

"Hey, it's not our fault amigo," Antonio said between fits of laughter.

"Tonio iz right for once," the blonde said wiping tears from his eyes, "It iz yours for being ensnarled in mon petite's web of l'amour~."

He snorted, shoulders hitching up in a shrug. "I'm too awesome for zhat love crap. You're too sappy…like a girl."

Francis gasped, beginning to yell at him in French but he wasn't really paying him any attention. His eyes kept on scanning the hallway, looking…looking…

"IGGY!" that American accent, rude and loud, boomed through the hallway. Gilbert looked down to the right just in time to see the –self proclaimed –awesome –not really –hero. He watched Alfred running down the hallway, pushing an irritable Italian out of the way. Lovino cursed, bumping into his brother and Feliciano –already uncoordinated –stumbled forward, getting a face full of Ludwig's chest. The American paid them no mind as he launched himself at Arthur. The two of them fell to the floor in a heap.

"Lovi~!" Antonio exclaimed running over to his pissy Italian, checking his body over for injury.

"Angleterre!" Francis yelled running over to the pile of tangled British and American limbs.

The albino smiled, using this as his chance to slip away and run down the stairs. _It Alfred was there then that meant his Birdie was too…_ He hurried to the less crowded bottom floor and jogged to his locker. _There, there-._

"Hey, Matt!" his feet stopped moving as two guys appeared next to the Sophomore, "Where you've been buddy?" Gilbert recognized the two as Carlos and Tim, guys that had been sitting with them the first day of school. They hadn't spoken to Matthew in a month. A month!

"B-Bonjour Tim. Carlos," he said holding his body stiffly as he turned to face them.

"There's a bonfire by Eagle's Peak on Friday," Carlos said his eyes soft as he looked at the younger teen, "You in?"

Obviously this Cuban bastard likes him! This simply won't do…

"I…I don't-."

"Oh come on! It'll be so much fun!" the spiky haired guy groaned in irritation.

"…u-um…c-can I invite people?"

"Of course!" the Cuban said quickly, "The more the mer –AS LONG AS IT ISN'T ALFRED!"

A weary laugh escaped his throat, rough and scratchy, "Of course not Carlos, it's not him."

Ah, so that's his name…Gilbert thought just as the guy with spiky hair and snake bites asked, "Who then?" Taking this as a perfect opportunity, the albino swaggered forward and draped his arm over the blonde's shoulders with the utmost gentleness.

Matthew was a piece of glass after all, a fragile bird that should be handled using cloth gloves.

_Gentle, fragile –**TAKE HIM, BREAK HIM** –perfect._

"Hallo, Vögelchen," he said ignoring the way the younger teen stiffened, "So who iz zhis?"

"Th-This is Carlos," Matthew stuttered face bright red as he pointed to the guy with dread locks and a nose piercing, "And Tim." Time was the scowling guy with pot eyes and wrinkled clothes.

"Sup," he greeted making sure his lips pulled into the cockiest grin ever, "I am Gilbert ze Awesome! You may now kiss meine feet and surrender your vital regions."

Matthew slapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh, Carlos looked confused and slightly horrified and Tim…well…Tim just looked pissed.

"Wanna say that again, you stupid fuck?" the spiky haired Junior hissed straightening his posture.

He was a little taller, but Gilbert was broader.

"Kesesesese, you heard vat I said," he laughed, grin still on his face, "P!nk wannabe."

Tim's face went completely red and he lunged. The Cuban holding him back as Gilbert dragged Matthew back a foot. "I will kill your pussy ass!" he screamed as he was pulled away continuing to swear in what was concluded to be Dutch.

"We'll pick you up at nine!" Carlos said to Matthew, soon disappearing behind a corner.

"Don't be so mean to him," Matthew breathed turning to fully face the taller male, "Tim means well."

"Maybe but he's rude," he muttered eyes immediately going to his face –. "Birdie, vat happened to your face?!" he exclaimed fingertips touching the bruise gently.

The blonde flinched, shying away from his hand. Gilbert tried to ignore the painful stab to his heart, reminding himself that it wasn't him specifically who he was shying away from.

"I…I walked into a door…" the Sophomore muttered blushing bright red.

A feeling deep in his chest, what he assumed to be instinct, told him it was a lie. No, it was practically screaming: _he's lying, he's lying! Goddamn it, it's a lie!_ But he didn't tell Matthew this. No, instead he smiled hesitantly. "Zhat vas pretty reckless," Gilbert said trying to make his voice light, teasing, "Day dreaming about me?"

His blush got brighter and he sputtered, "N-N-Non! Why would you th-think tha-at?!"

The albino chuckled, pulling him closer by the wrist. "Maybe I vas doing zhat vith you," he whispered in his ear. Matthew blushed bright red, the Senor cackling the entire time. "Meine Gott, your face!" he snickered holding his stomach. He hadn't been lying though. Ever since their outing, Gilbert hadn't stopped thinking about the blonde. Gilbert was also, slowly, beginning to gain his childhood memories of him. Of Matthew. Memories that had been lost due to years of being on mood stabilizers.

He thought he saw disappointment flash across Matthew's face but if was gone so quickly he might've imagined it. After all, he tended to imagine a lot of things. "Jack ass," the blonde sighed.

Gilbert pouted draping his arms lazily over his shoulders. "Come on! Don't be like zhat," he whined resting his cheek on top of his silky haired head, "Let's go upstairs." The Senor noticed that he smelled like powdered sugar and maple syrup.

"…I don't think that's a good idea," he mumbled but was purposefully ignored by Gil, who began dragging him by the wrist, "W-Wha…? W-Wait! Ok, ok, just don't pull me, it hurts!"

The albino smiled triumphantly, slowing down his stride. They were walking side by side, now, and he still hadn't let go of the fragile wrist in his hand. But, best of all, Matthew didn't ask him too.

~oOo~

Gilbert. Loved. PE.

There were two major reasons why.

Reason one, he was good at it. They had to run a while today and he outran most of the class, back in Germany there were some…not nice places. He wasn't the only one that outran the class, though. There was also Antonio who lived off of tomatoes, churros, "Lovi~" and soccer, and Francis who was surprisingly fit. Most thought he was too prissy to work out –especially since he went on strike against sports last year –but he was actually pretty serious to keep his body fit. For the ladies, of course.

"And the men," Francis would say, "don't forget about the men."

That brings up Reason Two. All members of the BTT had PE sixth period. Needless to say it was never boring especially during locker room time.

They had just ran that mile and had run three more, the BTT members getting pats on the back and compliments, before they had to hit the showers.

Gilbert immediately got in and stripped, wrapping a towel around his waist. He didn't want anyone's heads to explode from seeing his awesome "five meters". Grabbing soap and shampoo, he headed to the showers…only to see Francis peaking around the doorway.

"Psssst!" he hissed coming up beside his friend, "Vat are you doing?"

The Frenchman hardly spared him a glance. "Looking at this exotic little kitten," he muttered face red and eyes sparkling with perverted glee.

He turned to look at the lone being in the shower and smirked. "You mean Gupta?" Gilbert chuckled, "Damn you have vierd tastes. You know vat? Never mind, you vill fuck anyzhing vith a pulse." With that he strolled to a shower head and turned on the hot water. There was only one shower head between him and the Egyptian, so he could easily see Francis glare and give him the French version of the middle finger. Gilbert smirked, trying not to laugh as the steam in the shower room quickly doubled.

_I can so have fun with this_, he thought and, making sure it was obvious to Francis what he was doing, scanned the other male's body. And it was a nice body too.

Gupta had black hair that clung to his wet cheeks and forehead, the humidity making the strands on the back of his neck curl upward. His eyes were closed in bliss as the hot water washed over him, muscles visibly more relaxed beneath his pink tinted skin. Pink tinted skin that reminded him of coffee with too much milk in it and just as creamy looking. His skin looked so soft, so creamy, that he actually thought it was milk or cream. His gaze traveled down the wet body, following the soapy hand. The Egyptian was on the shorter side with narrow shoulders and a narrow-ish waist, almost feminine like with the way his hips rounded out –very slightly –and how perky his ass was. Gupta was also all legs and small feet-.

"Eyes forward," Gupta said his voice a threatening monotone.

"Vat?" the albino taunted, "Zhere's no harm in looking-."

Quickly he was hit over the head with a shampoo bottle. "You're almost as bad as the French man," he snapped turning to glare at Francis' retreating back.

"Almost? I am Gilbert ze Great and Powerful, I can do vat ever I vant. I am vay vorse zhan him!"

"True…no one can beat you at your own games. Which are stupidity and-."

"Oh fuck off," the albino hissed, "You know you're just jealous of my awesomeness. Und I zhink ve already established you're jealous of meine five meters-."

The shorter male hit him over the head with the shampoo. Again.

"Ow! Vill you stop hitting me?!" he snarled hands holding his head protectively.

Gupta glared, opening his mouth to say something when slightly hairy arms encircled his waist.

"Ohonhonhon~! Bonjour mon ami~!" Francis purred pressing his front to the Egyptian's back.

Gupta's face turned bright red and he turned, squirting shampoo into the blonde's eyes.

"Ah!" he cried as he was kneed in the balls, "W'at was zhat for?!"

"Being a pervert," Gupta said evenly even as he started to beat the French man mercilessly to the ground with a loofa.

"Kesesesese!" the albino chuckled, clutching his stomach he was laughing so hard.

"What are you laughing at?" Gupta snapped crossing his arms as the blonde dragged his bruised and naked body from the shower room.

"Oh nozhing, nozhing," he smirked allowing his eyes to _very_ obviously roam the Egyptian's body.

It was easier to see him, now that they were facing each other. His body was lean despite his flared hips and his legs held more muscle in them than Gilbert originally thought. his arms also bore lean muscle and, as the albino's eyes traveled down, he saw a long neck and rosy nipples. Then lower to a flat stomach, the outline of a V, his-.

Gilbert got his eyes and mouth full of soap before he could see more.

~oOo~

"Totally worth it," Francis said afterwards, stretching and popping his back, "Hmmm. 'is ass felt zo good against my Eiffel tower."

He shook his head, rubbing his irritated, red eyes. "Speak for yourself, my eyes are killing me," the albino hissed glaring at his French friend, "So…you going to ask him out?"

"Non," he sighed gripping his chest like he was having a heart attack, "Zomeone already 'as eyes for 'im…and she iz scary as fuck."

Gilbert chuckled, eyes instinctively looking around the hall for his Matthew. _Mine, mine, mine._

"Gil, mon ami, who-?"

"O MY G, Mattie, what, like, happened to your face?!"

His head snapped up to see the cross dressing Pole waving his hands frantically. The cross dresser was having a royal freak out while Lovino held onto Matthew's chin, turning his head side to side. "Francis, I got to go," Gilbert said hurrying over to the three Sophomores.

"Calm down, Feliks, it's just a bruise," Matthew said rubbing his friend's sweater covered arms. "I play hockey so I have gotten plenty."

There seemed to be more to that statement, but he didn't over analyze it as he approached them. "Hallo!" he greeted giving Matthew a tight squeeze and kept his arms around Matthew's shoulders, "Vat's up?" He was so grateful to feel his soft, malleable flesh. No lean muscle just all curves and Matthew and the smell of sugar and maple syrup.

"Hello, potato bastard," Feliks and Lovino said at the same time.

He rolled his eyes, wondering why the other male's friends hated him. "So~ am I invited to zhis bonfire zhing?" Gilbert asked giving his largest grin.

"If-If you want to go…" he mumbled blushing and looking down at his feet.

"Hell yeah!" the albino shouted making everyone in a two foot radius flinch, "Can I bring Tonio and Francis?"

"Why do you have to bring that tomato bastard?" Lovino growled despite the blush on his face.

"You know you vant to see him shake zhose Spanish hips!"

"Huh? Whose hips?" Antonio asked innocently, appearing for the second time that day from out of nowhere and wrapping his arm around the Italian's waist from behind.

Lovino let out a very unmanly squeal before turning to glare at the brunette. "Chigi, you bastard! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack…"

"Lo siento, mi tomate," he hummed nuzzling the side of his face, "Now what about 'hips'?"

"Zhere's a party und you're going," Gilbert said placing his hands on his hips.

"Ok," the Spaniard said happily, cocking his head to smile down at the hazel eyes Italian, "Are you going Lovi? Will you drive with me?"

He sighed, "Si…I will. Bastard."

"Like, oh my gawd, Mattie can I bring Liet?!"

"…Oui, sure Feliks."

"See, Birdie?" Gilbert said softly into his ear, "You're going to have fun. I promise."

Matthew smiled, a small fleck of violet in his bright blue eyes. "Merci, mon ami," he mumbled fingers grazing the back of the albino's hand.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he recognized the happy glint of happiness. _Please, Vӧgelchen, continue to smile for me. Never stop smiling._

* * *

**Oh…my…gawd…it's done**

**This chapter was so hard to write! I was almost like: FUUUUUCK IT!**

**Anyways it's 2:15 in the AM and I'm going to sleep**

**LOVE YOUS**

**~kitty**

* * *

**_Character's shown_**

**Katyusha (Ukraine)**

**Natalia (Belarus)**

**Ivan (Russia)**

**Kiku (Japan)**

**Eliza/Elizabeta (Hungary)**

**Lili (Liechtenstein)**

**Vash (Switzerland)**

**Raivis (Latvia)**

**Eduard (Estonia)**

**Feliks (Poland)**

**Matthew (Canada)**

**Carlos (Cuba)**

**Tim (Netherlands)**

**Toris (Lithuania)**

**Francis (France)**

**Antonio (Spain)**

**Feliciano (North Italy)**

**Grandfather/Grandpa/Opa (Germania)**

**Ludwig (Germany)**

**Lovino (South Italy)**

**Matthias (Denmark)**

**Lukas (Norway)**

**Emil (Iceland)**

**Leon (Hong Kong)**

**Tino (Finland)**

**Berwald (Sweden)**

**Alfred (America)**

**Gupta (Egypt)**

**Arthur (England)**


	4. Alfred

**Hiiii so this chapter switches it up!**

**This chapter features Alfred (AKA AMERICA)**

**OHHHH my friend read this when it was in my notebook (yes…she does this instead of listening to the monotones of highschool teachers…) and she blushed SO MUCH when she read about Egypt in the last chapter XD then she MADE me put her in the story!**

**Her name is Dust and I tried to make her like she's like in real life and she's sooooo fucking awesome (but not as awesome as Prussia) soooo GIVE HER CHARACTER A STANDING OVACTION!**

**Soooo yeah…ENJOY**

**_Warnings: homophobia(?)_**

* * *

"I feel the love

And I feel it burn

Down this river every turn

Hope is a four letter word

Make that money

Watch it burn

Old, but I'm not that old

Young, but I'm not that bold

And I don't think the world is sold

I'm just doing what we're told"

~_Counting Stars_ by One Republic

* * *

**_Chapter Four_**

There he was, standing by his locker. Emerald eyes shockingly bright beneath thick brows, blonde hair wild and shaggy. His signature "no nonsense" look on his face even as his rebellious piercings glittered. Four on his right ear and three on the left.

_Arthur._

He couldn't help but be attracted to the blonde; he was _British_ for fuck's sake! At first he had tried to ignore his feelings towards other men, but he figured if he was quiet about it then there was no harm done.

Alfred wasn't obvious about it, like his brother. Everyone knew about Matthew. Francine, their mom, Francis, the only person who didn't seem to realize Matthew's flaming gayness was their father. But, perhaps he suspected something with all the crap he gave Matthew. Either way Alfred knew how to play straight –although he wasn't full blown gay, just bisexual gay –but his little brother didn't. Mattie just tried too hard.

Anywho, the point was: ever since he saw Arthur he knew he was a goner. He made his way toward him, smile getting bigger. "Art-," he was rudely cut off by a perverted laugh.

"Ohonhonhon, Angleterre, your pants are looking especially skinny today," Francis said walking up and obviously checking out the Brit's ass.

"What do you want, frog?" he asked not bothering to look away from the contents of his locker.

Alfred quickened his pace as the Frenchman placed his hand between Arthur's shoulder blades, leaned in and whispered in Arthur's ear. He felt panic in his chest, knowing Francis' reputation all too well. Hell, he himself had slept with the man enough times.

Francis can't have him, I have to have him!

"Hey! Yo! French fry," Alfred called forcing cheer into his voice, "sup, dude?!"

The Frenchman nodded, whispering one last thing that made the Brit blush and punch his arm. "Ohonhonhon~" Francis chuckled smirking at the American, "Bonjour Alfred, take care of mon lapin for moi." With a final smirk, he sauntered away.

"What was that about?" Alfred snapped anger directed at the French whore.

"Oh nothing," Arthur said rolling his eyes, the blush was still there, "You know how that wanker is, a stereotypical snail sucker."

"Ha ha, yeah," he said scratching the back of his neck, "Hey…Iggy, you wanna…I dunno…get dinner or somethin' Friday?" Alfred tried not to hope too much.

"No I already have plans. Besides, you eat like a pig and you have no table manners," the Brit said bluntly but when he saw Alfred's kicked puppy look, his expression softened. "Maybe…we could go Wednesday-?"

"Oh! Awesome!" Alfred exclaimed with a big smile, "So what are your plans?"

"Huh?"

"The plans you have Friday," he said slowly, "what are they?"

All of a sudden, the Brit looked extremely irritated. "I'm skinning a cat as an offering for Our Lord Satan!" Arthur snapped lips curling.

Alfred's eyes widened and all the color drained from his face. "O-Oh my God, dude are you serious?!"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's none of your business, Alfred," the Brit said curtly, spinning on his heel, "Now I'll be going." With an unconscious, slight hip sway, he walked over to his Magic Club friends: Vladimir and Lukas.

"….That was odd."

The voice made Alfred jump but, once he recognized the voice, he turned and gave his friend a half grin. "Hey, Dusty," he teased briefly forgetting about Arthur, "Sup?"

"The sky," Dust smirked looping her arm through his, "So why the 'what the fuck' face, hero?"

He sighed, looking down at the shorter girl. "Iggy's panties are in a bunch," Alfred said leaning all his weight on her and making her grunt in pain, "and I don't know why…"

"Well it could have something to do with your hamburger addiction, your _INSISTANCE _on yelling all the fucking time, your irrational fear of clowns-."

"I'm _not_ afraid of clowns dude!" he shouted blushing slightly, "A-And at least I don't fangirl around certain people-!" He was cut off by a notebook to the face. "Ow! Dusty don't be a bi-AHH!"

Dust continued to whack him over the head with her notebook. She did this so he wouldn't see the blush igniting her cream colored cheeks as she thought about those two people.

"Ok, ok! I'm sorry!" Alfred shouted snatching up her notebook and holding it above her head. She gave him a black look, before pouting and trying to reach for it. It was futile, Alfred being much taller. "Let's see what we have here~" he teased good naturedly, flipping open the cover. There were drawings of her favorite anime and videogame characters, people in school and two very good pictures of a certain albino.

Both were drawn in pencil. The first was Gilbert seemingly looking at Dust. He had a big grin on his face, tongue sticking out to reveal a round tongue piercing. The way he was drawn made his eyes sparkle with amusement, despite the lack of color; clothes wrinkled as he leaned in close and held up the middle finger. The second was drawn when he, apparently, didn't have a clue. Gilbert in some sexy rocker/rebel garb; he stood next to an arcade machine, smiling at his companion sweetly. His right hand was on the smaller boy's lower back, the boy's body contorted so he was half facing Gilbert. The boy wore tight clothes, smiling broadly up at the albino as he looked up at him with doe eyes behind round glasses.

The boy looked familiar, especially with that wavy hair, but Alfred couldn't place him. he turned the page. The next picture drawn made blood dribble from his nose. "D-Dust?! Is…Did you draw Gupta na-?!"

Dust violently jabbed his spleen. He curled in on himself, gasping in pain and the shorter girl took this as the opportunity to snatch back her notebook. Her face was bright red as she clutched the notebook to her chest.

"Ha-Have you" –wheeze –"even seen him na…naked?"

She blushed…but was silent.

"Tap dancing Christ, you have?!" Alfred shouted grinning slyly.

"…please die in a hole."

"Oh my-."

"GAWD! Dust," Feliks called sauntering up in his girl's uniform, "I have to, like, tell you what happened!"

"What…?" she asked hesitantly, the blonde moving to her side and beginning to braid her hip length hair.

"Your hair's, like, so pretty," the Pole sighed straightening Dust's school blouse, "I wish I, like, tots had your hair."

She was pretty with hip length, raven hair, pale skin, violet eyes flecked with gold and framed by thick lashes. She was short but curvy and she wore the girl school uniform instead of her usual black jeans and band t-shirts. The uniform looked out of place on her but that didn't take away from her looks.

"Thanks, Feliks," Dust said letting him play with her hair, "But you said you had something…?"

"OMFG, yeah!" he said placing a hand on his hip, "Gilbert, like the annoying ass he is, like, told Mattie when I was standing _right there_ that, like, Francis molested your little Egyptian."

"Wha…_WHAT?!_" she yelled shaking in rage, "WHAT THE FUCK HE DO?!"

"He got all naked, like, totally grinded against him in the shower!"

"I…will…KILL HIM!"

"Wait, Dust, dude!" Alfred called as she ran off, her back tensed in anxiety and rage turning her eyes dark purple. "She's going to kill him, bro," he said looking at Feliks.

"I know. That's, like, the point," he chuckled flipping his hair back, "So are you, like, going to Tim's party?"

"Hell yeah!" Dust is taking me and Gupta," the American said suddenly frowning as he remembered something, "Damn it, Carlos is going to be there…that fucker hates me."

"Ha ha! Don't worry, I'll, like, protect you!"

Alfred looked at the effeminate male in disbelief. "Yeah…" he said making sure the skepticism was clear, "sure…You'll be too busy being fucked by Toris to help a bro out, dude."

The Pole sighed, twirling a strand of hair around his finger, "Like, I wish…"

~oOo~

"Hey dad," Alfred said later that night as they ate dinner, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Al," his father said setting down his silverware, steepleing his fingers and smiling, "What is it?"

"Well ya know those exchange students I told you about?" his father nodded and the teen continued, "Yeah so I made friends with one of 'em-."

"Good for you!"

"-and I was wondering if I could spend the night at his place?" Complete BS.

"Will you only be spending the night at his house?" the preacher asked brow furrowing as he thought about all the disgusting things his eldest could possibly do.

He shrugged, pulling an innocent and blank face, "We might go out with some friends for dinner or somethin'."

"Ah, that's ok, then. You can go," Mr. Jones said then suddenly turned to his other son, a sadistic grin on his face, "I suppose you're going to stay in again, stupid shit?"

He flinched, coughing into his fist in and attempt to clear his throat. "A-Actually…" Matthew said hands fiddling with his shirt sleeves, "I was invited to spend the night at the Vargas household…"

Their father's fork, which he had picked up after talking with Alfred, clattered onto the plate. "Vargas…? As in: THE Vargas family?" Mr. Jones asked eyes wide, "Why the _fuck_ would they invite _you_?"

"Sweetheart," Katherine gasped blushing, "language!"

"I-I'm friend with Mr. Vargas' grandson, Lovino," the Sophomore said looking down at his lap, "Y-You can meet Mr. Vargas if you want…he-he's really nice-."

"You've met him?!" their father said aghast, still in shock apparently, "How…Do you even know his reputation, what befriending him could do for this family?!" He stood, shaking hands balling into fists and resting on the dining room table.

"I-I-I'm sorry," the blonde squeaked, body trembling as he shrunk away from their father, "I di-didn't know-."

"Do you know how far we could go with his support? Doors would open! Our church could get more funding!" Mr. Jones was yelling now, spittle flying from his mouth, "And you…you…stupid…shit, you ruined it! You can't do anything right! I only wish abortion was allowed by the Lord so your mother could've-."

"Dad…" Alfred cut in as his brother's eyes began to get wet and his body shook. He flinched when their father's glare was directed at him. "M-Maybe it's not too late…you could drop Mattie off and talk to Mr. Vargas then?"

His father stared at him before beaming. "That's a great idea," Mr. Jones said brightly, sitting back down.

He exhaled, looking over at his little brother. The Sophomore's face was blank as he picked at his food but his eyes…his eyes were dark blue, churning pools that held a disturbing emotion Alfred couldn't name. The Jock shrugged, continuing to eat his food. He was selfishly glad his dad didn't hate him.

* * *

**Soooo yeah…this is relatively short compared to the last three(?) chapters**

**I hope you guys still liked it!**

**Love yous**

**~kitty**

* * *

_**Characters mentioned:**_

**Feliks (Poland)**

**Arthur (England)**

**Francis (France)**

**Gupta (Egypt)**

**Matthew (Canada)**

**Francine (Fem!France) (Francis' mother)**

**Katherine (OC) (Matthew&Alfred's mother)**

**Mr. Jones (OC) (Matthew&Alfred's father)**

**Vladimir (Romania)**

**Lukas (Norway)**

**Alfred (America)**

**Gilbert (Prussia)**

**Dust (OC)**

**Toris (Lithuania)**

* * *

**Sorry if I missed any characters!**


	5. Bonfire

**YO YO YO**

**So this chapter is from multiple POVs and takes place during the bonfire**

**I'm not going to say anymore because I REALLY want you to read this**

**_POVs (in order of appearance):_**

**1-Alfred**

**2-Arthur**

**3-Matthew/Gilbert**

**4-Carlos/Tim**

**Hugs and tickles!**

**_Warnings: drinking, drunkenness, YAOI YAOI YAAOOOOIIIII, drugs, A LOT of characters, it gets really cheesy at one point_**

* * *

"Color me blue I'm lost in you

Don't know why I'm still waiting

Many moons have come and gone

Don't know why I'm still searching

Don't know anything at all

And who am I to say you love me

I don't know anything at all

And who am I to say you need me"

~_Who Am I To Say_ by Hope

* * *

**_Chapter Five_**

It was six days later. Friday. Alfred was sitting in the back seat of the Egyptian's expensive car, Dust in the passenger seat. "Are you guys ready to tear it up?!" the blonde shouted fist pumping, "I look like a sexy motherfuckin' beast!" And he did, too, in torn jeans, an American flag t-shirt, white sneakers and his bomber jacket.

"I'm not tearing anything," Gupta grunted eyes on the road.

"Yeah, because we wouldn't want that," she giggled raising her eyebrows at the dark haired male in a not so subtle manner. Dust sent him a look that basically said: _I'm going to fuck you._

He coughed, making sure to avoid eye contact with his somewhat girlfriend. "Sh-Shut up…" he mumbled giving Dust a not so subtle once over. For the seventh time.

"I think you both look smexy!" Alfred exclaimed attempting to help his best chick friends get laid. It wasn't exactly a lie either.

Dust wore a black band t-shirt that hugged the curves of her torso, a purple jean skirt that ended an inch below her thighs, purple and black fingerless gloves that reached her elbows and black lace up boots with a half inch platform. Her hair was in a messy braid over her shoulder and barely there make up. But she looked good with almost no makeup and, in Alfred's opinion, one of the few girls that did.

Gupta –their driver –wore a black turban with gold around the edges, a tight, black, long sleeved shirt with a v-neck, white skinny jeans and worn black converse that were fading with age. The only other colors in his outfit were a silver ring and a ruby pendent hanging from a silver chain.

They really did look great…Just not as great as the hero himself.

"Thanks, hero," she said rolling her eyes but a blush still stained her cheeks, "but no one asked you." He smiled, laughing and knowing the words weren't mean.

"We're here," the Egyptian said cutting Alfred off when he was about to speak. He parked on a patch of land covered with gravel, next to a lot of cars. It was surprising how many people were there, how many different kinds. There was a beat up pickup truck that was probably from the lower middle class area, a non-flashy silver car from the assumed higher middle class all the way to a bright red convertible from the upper class area. "Come on!"

Alfred leapt from the car, quickly jogging to catch up to his two friends. "I'm coming…!" he rasped as they began to walk up the incline without him.

It took a while, but when they finally made it to the flat platform surrounded by trees and forest, they were amazed. The thick forest of trees swallowed the sound well, a giant camp fire, smoke curling and rising into the sky, music blared with teenagers, drinking alcohol, dancing and eating pizza. "This…is…amazing!" Alfred breathed looking around with bright eyes.

"Yeah, it is," Dust said the first to recover. She grabbed her Egyptian's wrist and dragged him away, "Let's go get some pizza, Gupta!"

They left, but Alfred wasn't left alone all that long. Gilbert appeared behind him, slapping the blonde's back. "Vhat's up?" he exclaimed cheerily, "I didn't know you vere coming."

"Last minute thing, bro," Alfred lied, smiling, "Yo, tell me where the beer's at!"

The albino cackled motioning to a black pickup truck by the edge of the cliff/peak thing. "Zhere it is," he said smiling lovingly at his own beer, "Have fun!" Gilbert spun on his heel, quickly glomping a blonde and dragging him to a make shift dance floor. Basically, a bunch of flattened cardboard boxes on the ground.

He made his way to the pickup, grabbing a Miller Lite and taking a moment to look for any of his friends.

He saw Ludwig –who had come because of Gilbert –drinking German beer and talking to Feli –who came because of Ludwig and Lovino. Then there was a happy Spaniard –who came because of Gilbert, Francis and Feli –dancing with his hands on a blushing and tipsy Lovino's hips –Lovino coming to protect his brother from being drugged and to make sure Antonio wouldn't be dragged into something stupid –both grinding against each other. Kiku –who chad come because of Feli and Ludwig – was talking with a Taiwanese girl and her Vietnamese girlfriend, while his friends Hercules and Sadiq –who both were there because of Kiku –yelled at each other nearby. Elizabeta –who came to protect her boyfriend–was slow dancing with the Austrain –who came because Gilbert and Eliza forced him –goofy smiles on both their faces. Yao had shown up –to make sure his younger brothers didn't get shit faced –was happily talking to a vodka drinking Russian –who showed up because he figured Yao would come. Since Ivan had come so did Natalia, who was being held back by Katyusha.

The American sighed into his beer. It was a great party with great music, only one thing could make it better, thou-.

"You don't dance that bad, frog."

It was like Alfred had summoned him! A broad smile nearly cracked his face in half as he spun around to greet the Brit. But when he saw him his smile dropped.

Arthur was wearing tight leather pants, a black fishnet shirt, a bandana with the British flag wrapped around his neck and black combat boots with chains dangling off the side. His cheeks were pink from alcohol, all his piercings –including a lip ring –were in, his nails were painted black and black eyeliner framed his foggy green eyes. He looked _hot_! But his hotness was leaning himself against Francis. Arthur's chest was pressed to the Frenchman's side with his arms wrapped around his neck.

Francis couldn't be dressed more differently. His blonde hair was pulled back in a blue ribbon a few strands framing his face, he wore a white button down, blue skinny jeans and sneakers that looked like the French flag. He reeked of wine and rose water.

The American stared, tasting blood as he bit down on his tongue. "Ar…Arthur…?" Alfred choked out, hands balling into fists, "So…he was your 'plans'? You blew me off for…for _him?!_"

He jumped away from Francis, like he'd been burned, at the sound of Alfred's voice and gaped at his friend. "A-Alfred? Wha…what are you going on about lad?" the Brit stammered standing close enough to Francis that they could…hold hands.

"I asked you out to eat, remember?" he sneered glaring at the two blondes, "You said you had plans. You blew me off…to fuck _him?!_"

"Alfred!" Arthur scolded glaring. He turned, looking up at Francis and tugging at his sleeve. "Can you…give us a minute, frog?" he asked softly.

The Frenchman nodded, not bothering to look at Alfred. "I'll be waiting, lapin," he said gently, fingertips grazing the back of the shorter male's hand. Francis turned on his heel and left.

"Now, Alfred," the green eyed male said straightening his clothes, "what the bloody Hell is wrong with you?"

"…You blew me off for that prick!"

"Francis…Francis isn't that bad," he mumbled, "…for a frog."

"Why?" Alfred asked tears making his vision wobble, his heart was being crushed.

Taking in the American's hurt expression, Arthur's eyes softened and he placed a hand on the taller male's shoulder. "I'm not…this isn't a date," he admitted, "We-We're friends of a sort."

"Then…I still have a chance?" Alfred said hopefully.

"I don't think so, lad."

"Just one kiss, Iggy," he said clutching the smaller blonde's biceps, "Just…one kiss."

"No," Arthur sighed shrugging him off, he reached for a bottle of scotch and a bottle of red wine, "I…I made a promise to myself, long ago. No matter how many men have my body, no matter how many women I take, my first kiss will be for the one I truly love." He took a swig of scotch from the bottle, coughing. "Sappy, is it? What can I say? I'm British and tipsy."

He still smiled, though, grabbing Arthur's hand between his own. "Then I won't stop trying," Alfred exclaimed, "Just wait and see, Iggy! I'll make you fall in love with me for sure!"

._._._.

Arthur sighed, making his way through the crowd and towards Francis. He really didn't want to go out with his American friend, wasn't into him like that. he just didn't know how to tell the blonde.

When he found the Frenchman, he was sitting by himself on a log. People watching.

"Miss me, frog?" he sneered shoving the wine bottle in Francis' face.

"I missed the alcohol, cher," the taller male chuckled guzzling down some wine, "Ah! Magnifique! Take a zeat, Arthur."

Arthur did. He sat beside the Frenchman on the log, staring at the bonfire and drinking his scotch.

"Zo why didn't you give Alfred a kiss?" Francis said breaking their comfortable silence.

He snorted, his face heating up. The Brit lifted the bottle to his lips and muttered against the rim, "None of your bloody fucking business."

"Angleterre," he sighed wine bottle hanging from between his middle and fore finger; "I make fun of you for many zhingz…your feelingz izn't one of zhem."

"Your accent is getting thicker," Arthur pointed out, fingers itching for a smoke, "Do you have a fag?"

The blue eyed teen raised an eyebrow, "I'll give you a _cigarette_" –he made sure to say the word slowly –"if you tell moi why you didn't kiss ze American."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's a stupid reason," Arthur admitted watching the other's dexterous fingers take a cigarette from his breast pocket and a small match book.

"Everyzhing iz stupid," the Frenchman said handing him the cigarette then lighting the match, "but I promise not to laugh mon ami."

Placing the cigarette by his lips, he let Francis light it. Arthur sucked in the smoke, letting cancer inducing nicotine curl in his lungs and calm him. "Well…um…it's a stupid promise I made to myself," he said feeling his face turn scarlet, removing the cigarette only to replace it with electric tasting scotch. "I promised not to kiss anyone until…I fell in love." He placed the cigarette back in his mouth, dangling from the corner of his lips. "I sound like a naïve school girl. Damn it all!"

"…I don't zhink zhat iz stupid."

Arthur spun around, looking at Francis with wide eyes. The long haired blonde was leaning his back against the tree behind him, half empty wine bottle and slowly burning cigarette in his right hand. "Wha…Wh-What did you say, you twat?!"

He opened his closed eyes, beautiful blues looking up at the night sky. "I zaid: I don't zhink it iz stupid," he said a small smile so unlike his perverted ones it made Arthur's breath catch, "In fact…it remindz moi of a promise I made myself as a child."

"R…Really?"

"Oui," Francis sighed, cigarette between his middle and fore finger as he used the other three on his right hand to tilt the wine into his mouth. "Mon mère immigrated from France wizh me qhen I was four. When I was growing up I'd stay up late into ze night, waiting for 'er to come 'ome. I would zit by ze window and wait…and wait…zometimes I'd fall asleep by zhat window, just…waiting. Mon mère couldn't convince moi to go to bed instead of staying up, zo to make it up to me she'd tuck me in and tell me stories. Mostly love stories. She did live in France after all." Francis paused to take a drag of his cigarette and flick the ashes on the ground.

"Zhere was one story zhat was my favorite. It was about a princess and a servant. Ze princess fell in love with ze stable boy but 'er parents, ze king and queen, wouldn't let 'er marry 'im because 'e was of lower class. 'eartbroken, she cast a spell on 'erzelf. She said zhat if any man kissed 'er who she did not love, zhat man would die. Zoon new spread and men gathered to kiss ze princess. Many men died and 'er parents began to worry for ze future of zheir kingdom. Ze stable boy zaw 'ow worried ze king and queen were and, at night, 'e would 'ear 'is true love zob 'is name. 'e zoon decided to steal robes from a recently deceased noble man's trunk. 'e dressed 'imzelf in ze expensive clothes and washed 'is face, fooling everyone and gaining a meeting with ze princess. When 'e zaw 'er, 'e was breathless. While 'er beauty was zhat of an angel's, sadness made 'er eyes zeem dead. 'e approached 'er, zat bezide 'er and asked w'at was wrong. Shocked by ze question, she answered 'onestly and zaid she missed 'er lover, 'er soul mate. 'e smiled, 'appy zhat she still love 'im, and told 'er 'e too 'ad a lover 'e couldn't be wizh. Ze princess felt touched and smiled for ze first time in a long time, 'er 'eart leapt into 'er throat. As 'e grabbed 'er 'and to place a kiss on ze back of 'er 'and, she zaw ze dirt beneath 'is nails. Realizing zhis was 'er stable boy, she leapt at 'im and kissed 'im, tears running down 'er cheeks."

"Zeeing zhat ze stable boy really was 'er true love, ze king and queen allowed zhem to marry. Zhey lived 'appily ever after," Francis finished, stopping his cigarette into the dirt.

"That's your reasoning?" the Brit asked finishing his own cigarette. His voice wasn't judgmental or mean, just curious.

"Oui and…somezhing else zhat 'appened," he admitted quietly, chugging the rest of the wine, "but…I-I don't want to talk about it."

Arthur simply nodded, deciding not to press. "So I guess we are just two whores with virgin lips," he muttered tilting his fuzz filled head up to the night sky.

"I prefer ze word 'sluts' but, oui, I suppose you're right mon lapin," Francis sniggered fishing in his pocket for more cigarettes, "Like zhat movie _Pretty Woman_."

He laughed, the smaller male's heart fluttering and his face tinting pink. He tried not to think about his body's reaction to the Frenchman's nickname for him. But, most of all, Arthur fought the urge to grab the taller male's hand and lean into him.

._._._.

His body was buzzing, every pore feeling alive.

_Alive._

_Alive._

_Alive._

He never felt so alive before. And it wasn't just because of the alcohol, or the small pink tablet he had swallowed. No. It was because of the albino setting his insides on fire. The albino that drank German beer like water and seemed not to feel the effects, who had glomped him and dragged him to the "dance floor". The albino whose hands had instantly clamped onto his hips and began to dance with him. The music thrummed through them, placing the teens into a dreamlike state, and Gilbert's hips began grinding. It made the Sophomore's breath catch, but he didn't push him away.

Instead he began to grind back. Matthew wrapped his arms around the albino's neck, bringing their bodies close together until they didn't know where one ended and the other began. He rolled his hips –making Gilbert groan –and swayed his body –making Gilbert gasp –and when the beat dropped, he did too. Matthew dropped until his ass grazed the ground, hands following his body's decent and ran themselves down Gilbert's thighs to his knees. Then, as the music slowly gained power, he raised himself slowly. Hands running up his legs teasingly, Gilbert moaned as the blonde's body rubbed against his. With a teasing smirk Matthew turned, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's neck again and grinding his ass back against Gilbert's groin.

The Senior growled, pressing his lips to the blonde's ear. "I vant you," Gilbert growled making his arousal known.

The blonde's gasp turned quickly into a high pitched mewl of pleasure. He turned around, tangling his fingers in the snow white locks. Gilbert's white skin and matching hair glowed from the light of the bonfire, combined with his red eyes, he looked like a god. A god of fire, of war, someone fierce and strong and powerful. Matthew leaned close, heart beating fast, and whispered, "Come and get me, then" before licking up the albino's neck.

Gilbert moaned, trying to pull him closer, but by then he was already pulling away.

"You didn't think I'd make it easy, now," the blonde giggled a teasing smirk gracing his face. Matthew made a beckoning motion with his index finger, eyeing him up and down. "Come. And. Get. Me."

The Senior began to chase him, following him through the trees. Gilbert thought the younger boy was like a deer, jumping and weaving through trees. Breathy laughs escaped the two as the wolf picked up speed. The uneven forest floor slowed him down a bit but the wolf, _oh the wolf_, was determined. He would have his deer, his little bird, would eat him.

He was close now, body hot, mouth salivating as he thought about his prey. He would catch him, have him. Oh,_ yes_, he'd break him.

**_TAKE HIM TAKE HIM! HE'S YOURS NOW MORON! CONSUME HIM!_** Yeah…yeah, not a bad idea. **_MAKE HIM OURS!_**

His fingers closed around Matthew's wrist and his other hand, his left hand, pushing Matthew against a tree. He pinned the younger boy, using his body to keep the other still.

The blonde grunted as his back hit the bark but gasped when he felt Gilbert's body. Oh, his _body_! It was strong and powerful and he ached, _oh_ how Matthew ached. His heart beat erratically, his breath was short and sweat rolled down his neck. He wanted to be filled, dominated. Matthew didn't care if it made him a desperate whore –**_faggot_** –he wanted the older male to make him beg. Bend him over and make him scream. Yes, _oh yes_, he wanted to be forced to submit, wanted to be pinned down, spanked, handcuffed, made to take his cock unprepared. The thoughts made him hard as he felt the older male's body, imagining that rock hard body above his.

_Offer yourself to him. Do it, do it!_

Gilbert felt the other's arousal and an animalistic sound ripped from his throat. His mind was filled with images that made his mouth dry, goose bumps to prickle over his arms and sweat to roll down his temple. Beautiful, toe curling, mind numbing images. Images of the blonde helpless beneath him, hands cuffed and mouth gagged. Legs around his waist, soft thighs drawing him closer –only ever closer –tight heat engulfing his five meters. _Oh, he wanted to watch him writhe!_ His eyes followed a drop of sweat roll down Matthew's neck, only to pool in the younger's collar bone. Gilbert bent down, lapping it up, biting and sucking.

The Sophomore's neck arched and he gasped, free hand digging into the other's shoulder. "Mon dieu," he moaned eyelids closing as he panted for breath, "O-Oh, Gilbert, mo-ore!"

Both were burning, fire bright in their bellies and consuming them from the inside out.

He brought his hand up, sliding it beneath Matthew's off the shoulder, long sleeved, black shirt. The shorter male's skin was just as virgin soft as he imagined. Gilbert slid his hand up a soft, flat stomach to the hard, pink nubs on the boy's chest. He twisted and pulled, basking in Matthew's sweet moans and gasps. His five meters got harder the more he listened, jeans painfully tight.

Matthew was too hot, had too many clothes. The older male's cold hands only a brief reprieve from the heat, he lifted his shirt above his head and tossed it to the side. Almost immediately, Gilbert's mouth closed around his nipple. He cried out in pleasure, wrapping a leg around the other's waist and pulling him closer.

The albino bit down and sucked harshly, enjoying the sweet maple taste on his tongue. He slipped a hand beneath Matthew's other thigh, lifting it up so both were wrapped around his body. Soft thighs cradled his body, small and round heels pressing into the middle of his back. He choked on a gasp; breathing heavily with his mouth pressed against the younger's chest and slid his hand down to the front of his pants. The blonde yelped as his member was palmed through his red skinny jeans, Gilbert's other hand groping one full ass cheek.

Matthew's hips jerked up into the big, calloused hand massaging and squeezing his dick. He moaned when he felt another hand grab his ass roughly, fingers diving into snow white locks and digging into the other's scalp. _Now I understand why Tino and Berwald are always doing stuff like this in the hallways…_He jerked the German's head up and slammed their lips together.

The Senior was obviously surprised but didn't pull back. Instead he closed his eyes and melted into the kiss, just savoring the feel of Matthew's lips. Soft, pink, heavenly lips.

For a moment, the kiss was sweet and the world disappeared. Both were instantly intoxicated by the other's lips and they just spent a moment sucking each other's lips. They'd suck, pull away, look at their partner's lips, lick their own then lean in again to repeat the process. Matthew practically purred, placing one hand on the back of Gilbert's neck and keeping the other on the back of his head, tangled in the pale strands. The latter's thumb rubbed circles in the soft, plump flesh of the former's ass but didn't dare remove his hand from the other's groin.

It wasn't until Gilbert's hand shifted that the Sophomore was reminded of his aching erection and their fortunate positioning. He whined, his tongue snaking out to trace the seam of the albino's thing lips. _Kiss me –**bitch** –fuck me **–whore** –Gilbert, take me –**cunt **–please._

His tongue surged forward, claiming the shorter male's mouth. The heat quickly built back up as they battled for dominance, a battle Matthew valiantly –and willingly –lost. He claimed his sweet mouth; licking the insides of his cheeks, tickling the roof of his mouth, massaging their tongues together.

Once again Matthew whined, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth. Pleasure raked up and down his spine, settling in his abdomen and he began to rock. Matthew dug his nails in the skin of the older male's neck and scalp, using the albino's larger and broader body as leverage. He began to rock his body in response. Matthew felt the older male's hard member and gasped, grinding down against him.

They rutted against each other like animals in heat. There was nothing, _no one_, around. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of foliage and the sounds emitting from the couple. Moans, gasps, groans and mewls, the symphony of eroticism. Gilbert, enjoying the other's warm, malleable body. Matthew, enjoy the rock hard body supporting him and the scrape of bark on his bare back. both were sweating and panting in pure bliss as they dry humped each other, one half dressed and the other fully clothed.

"O-Oh, Gil~" Matthew gasped just on the brink of release, "T-Touch my –_ah!_ Gi-Gilbert, please, tu-ug my cu –_uh huh!_ –curl!"

"Vha…Vhy?" he rasped fingers digging into the blonde's ass hard enough to bruise.

"M-My curl," the blonde squeaked glasses askew and mouth hanging open in pleasure, "Pl-Please just pu-ull it!"

"Ja, ok, Vӧgelchen," Gilbert complied moving his hand away from the other's ass. He gently rubbed the curl and was utterly shocked by the reaction he received. The shorter male let out a loud mewl/moan/scream, back arching and grip tightening. "Mon dieu! Oh, more! Harder! Gilbert, please!" he begged tears at the corner of his eyes and body quivering.

The Senior _so_ liked this curl thing. "Oh, Birdie," Gilbert chuckled winding the curl around his finger and tugging. His Birdie let out another loud cry of pleasure, body spasming. "You didn't tell me you vere so sensitive~."

"N-Ngh, no one's ever…ever t-touched it before," the blonde admitted, face red, "Oh~ I'm so close, Gi-Gil!"

The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he sucked on the curl, grinding harder. The look on Matthew's face was all it took.

As he reached his peak, Matthew's face flushed and his head tilted back. A rough, quiet scream ripped out of the younger's throat as he called out Gilbert's name. That pleasured look, combined with the grinding and the raspy way his name was called, was enough to make the albino follow only forty seconds later.

They leaned against each other for support, both panting and feeling happiness that neither had ever before felt.

They felt for the first time…whole.

._._._.

Carlos looked over his shoulder and saw Matthew being chased by the albino, giggling the whole time. The Cuban felt sick and, when the joint made its way to him, he inhaled deeply. How could Matthew fall for someone like that? He was rude, self-centered, egotistical, annoying, loud and-!

_Not me…_

"Carlos, what's matter?"

The Dutch speaker's slurred question made him jump. He looked to his left at the spiky haired blonde next to him who was sitting on the ground, leaning back against a log in a black mesh wife beater, navy blue skinny jeans and ratty, black Converse. "Nu…Nothing, Tim," Carlos said looking down at his own dirty sneakers, "It's nothing…"

Tim raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. He leaned closer, twisting his body so his torso was facing the Cuban and touched one of the tanned arms, which were prompt up on their shared log, with his fingertips. "Carlos…don't lie," he purred but the threat was still there.

He looked away, blushing, as the blonde leaned closer. "That albino…is going off with Matt," Carlos said softly, gulping nervously. It was no secret that Tim had an explosive temper –no, an explosive personality. One moment he'd be happy and talkative then, all of a sudden, he'd be pissed and violent only to be charming and seductive the next moment.

"Yo, you talkin' 'bout Gilbert?" a Dane named Matthias asked before gulping down some beer.

"Of course he is," a Chinese boy, Yao Wang's youngest brother Leon, scoffed, "what other albino do you think they know?"

His date, an Icelandic named Emil, snuggled up to him and placed his head on the brunette's shoulder as he giggled. "Idiot," Emil managed to say between giggles.

"Ja, we're talking about _him_," Tim said with contempt, "Why?"

"He and the Bad Touch Trio are badass!"

"In, like, your opinion," Feliks scoffed resting his head on his Lithuanian's knee. The brunette was sitting on a log, not taking part in the pot offered, and running his fingers through Feliks' blonde hair.

"H-He is a bit…much," Toris said blushing when the blonde smiled, kissed his thigh and fluttered his feminine eyelashes. Clearly a reward for siding with the Pole.

"He is so awesome!" the Dane exclaimed, pausing when the joint made its way back to him, "You don't know shit about the fucking crap he and his friends've pulled!"

"He's not as fucking awesome as me," Alfred said wobbling to his feet and striking a pose, "I'm the hero!"

"Sit yer arse down!" Arthur's older Scottish half-brother –Aliaster –bellowed making every one, minus Tim, jump. Looking like a scolded child, the American sat. "Stupid American," the Scotsman muttered ripping the joint from Emil's fingers, which earned him a glare from the Chinese boy.

"Ugh, this conversation bores me!" Tim snapped suddenly shifting and straddling Carlos' lap. A wicked smile stretched his lips as the other high teens laughed and cat called.

He blushed. "T-Tim-?"

"What?" the blonde shrugged and looped his arms around the other's neck, gently rocking on his lap.

He blushed but heat was starting to make its way South. Carlos placed his hands on strong hips, cocking his head to the side and letting the Dutch speaker nibble on his earlobe. His eyes closed and he sucked on the pale neck usually hidden by a scarf.

Tim gasped, pulling away only to lick the shell of his ear. "Don't worry, kindje," he whispered grabbing a handful of the Cuban's dreadlocks and yanking his head back, "He's probably just going to fuck him for fun." He slammed their lips together, Tim's tongue instantly surging into the tanned male's mouth.

Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed Carlos. Probably loved him. But Tim loved his freedom more. That and Matthew was just _so easy!_ As soon as the boy got drunk or had some XTC –like Matthew had that night –he turned into a little slut. Tim, without a doubt, would always choose to go back home to the Cuban at night. Would always lay in the same bed as him, crawl beneath the sheets, lay his head on Carlos' broad shoulder and let the other's deep breathing lull him to sleep. Tim would always choose Carlos, but Matthew would always be his favorite toy.

He didn't like to share his toys.

When they broke away for air, saliva connected their lips and Matthias was starting a new joint.

"You sure?" Carlos panted breaking the saliva strands.

He pressed their foreheads and chests together, nodding. Tim loved the Cuban's unnaturally warm body. Loved how he smelled of cigars, old spice and vanilla. _Yeah…I probably love him…_ "Ja," he breathed kissing the corner of the dark haired male's lips, "And…if not…I'll take care of it. We'll take care it."

"Promise?"

The blonde smiled, pulling Carlos' head to his chest and holding it there. "I promise, kindje," he purred looking at the tree line. Tim saw the albino return with their Matthew beneath his arm.

His eyes narrowed before a sadistic smirk stretched across his face. If the little bitch forgot his place…well, Tim would have no problem putting him back.

* * *

**Dun dun duuuuuun that's it**

**You got some PruCan action for the holidays **

**You guys happy?**

* * *

_**Characters mentioned:**_

**Matthew (Canada)**

**Gilbert (Prussia)**

**Antonio (Spain)**

**Alfred (America)**

**Gupta (Egypt)**

**Lovino (South Italy)**

**Dust (OC)**

**Arthur (England)**

**Francis (France)**

**Yao (China)**

**Kiku (Japan)**

**Feliciano (Italy)**

**Ludwig (Germany)**

**Hercules (Greece)**

**Sadiq (Turkey)**

**Ivan (Russia)**

**Matthias (Denmark)**

**Leon (Hong Kong)**

**Tim (Netherlands)**

**Carlos (Cuba)**

**Emil (Iceland)**

**Aliaster (Scotland)**

**Feliks (Poland)**

**Toris (Lithuania)**

* * *

**Happy belated Holidays and a Merry early New Year!**

**Love you lots**

**~kitty**


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